


Four Years In Antiva

by BettyBourbon



Series: The Black Shadow Chronicles [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Antiva City (Dragon Age), Antivan Crows, Eventual Smut, F/M, King Alistair (Dragon Age), Original Character(s), POV Multiple, Porn With Plot, Revenge, Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-09-25 22:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20379073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BettyBourbon/pseuds/BettyBourbon
Summary: Now here he was, right back where he had started. Nothing had changed, yet everything had changed...He had known for some time that there was nothing in the world that he would not do for this woman. That he would burn down the entirety of Antiva City just to protect her. She had shown him the only tenderness he’d ever known, had shown him what it truly felt like to have a home, to have some possibility of a ‘normal life.’ But there would be no normal life for them, not if the Crows still hunted him._________________________Snippits from the four years Zevran and Aurelia Cousland spent in Antiva. Takes place in the years between Origins and DAII.





	1. Chapter 1

_ **August 9.31: Five months after the end of the Fifth Blight – Antiva City** _

“Is that him?”

The window they stared out was clouded with dirt from the busy plaza below. The sun had begun to set, casting shadow across the cobblestones and surrounding buildings. Still, Zevran nodded. He was certain he would recognize Eoman Arainai from a mile away. 

He could feel Aurelia’s eyes upon him, knew that she was looking for some sort of reaction from him, but all he could do was follow the Grandmaster as he made his way down the street towards his mansion. Seeing his old mentor and home – if you could even call it that – again after over a year made Zevran’s stomach clench uncomfortably. 

He had left Antiva in an attempt to escape this life, this man. Now here he was, right back where he had started. Nothing had changed, yet everything had changed. There was a murderous rage filling him, one that could not be rivaled by any of the assassinations that had come before this. 

Eoman needed to die. 

Aurelia’s hand gently rested on his knee and he finally looked up at her. Her large gray eyes looked at him with worry but also solidarity. He moved his own hand to her face and gently stroked her cheek. The bile that was forming in his mouth slowly receded as she smiled at him and his heart warmed. 

He had known for some time that there was nothing in the world that he would not do for this woman. That he would burn down the entirety of Antiva City just to protect her. She had shown him the only tenderness he’d ever known, had shown him what it truly felt like to have a home, to have some possibility of a ‘normal life.’ But there would be no normal life for them, not if the Crows still hunted him. 

“We should not do this now,” Zevran insisted as he turned to look back at the now empty street. “We have a boat to catch in the morning. We need to get you to back to Ferelden.”

His lover’s face darkened at his words. She still had yet to forgive the new king for cutting their travels short. The letter telling her of her new post as Warden-Commander had reached them just as they were about to depart Seheron and anytime Zevran had mentioned it since, Aurelia’s teeth gritted in anger. 

“To the Black God with Ferelden,” Aurelia cursed. “I will not leave this city until that man is dead.”

Mac let out a small bark of agreement and Zevran sighed. 

They had been casing House Arainai for nearly two weeks now. They knew the number of Crows inside, the number who watched the gates, the number who patrolled the streets and roof tops surrounding. Still the thought of putting this woman, his love, in danger made anxiety gnaw at his insides. Would it not be best to wait until she was safely deposited at Vigil’s Keep before he took action?

“Zev,” Aurelia insisted, not finishing her words until he met her eyes once more. “We finish this tonight.”

* * *

“Will someone find that damned dog already and kill it!”

The incessant barking was grating on Eoman’s nerves as he sat at the desk in his study, going over today’s correspondence. He could barely focus on the updates of new recruits with the infernal racket from the street below. 

“We’ve tried, sir,” a young Crow said from the doorway, her hands wringing with nervousness as she addressed the Grandmaster. “Every time we seem to get close, it runs.”

“How many damn assassins does it take to kill a _dog_?” Eoman responded through gritted teeth. “If you don’t shut that thing up in the next hour, I’ll have you all sent to Velabanchel!”

The green Crow scurried away, once more leaving his doorway dark. Eoman looked back down at the letters before him, letting out a long sigh. 

Everything was quiet for a few moments, except for the barking that continued below. However, Eoman saw a new figure in his doorway from the corner of his eye. 

“I warned you—” he growled, but as he turned his head to look up, a knife flew past his cheek. He could feel his hair flutter from the sudden attack and there was a loud thud as the blade sunk into the wooden paneling. 

The dark clad figure rushed at him just as he stood from his chair and pulled his own blade from under the desktop. He raised his arm just in time as a short sword fell upon him. 

“Who sent you?” he gasped as pushed the would-be assassin from him and retreated to the door. Into the hallway he yelled, “I need assistance!”

The attacker brought their sword down upon him again and Eoman blocked the move with his own blade. His hand gripped the arm of the hooded intruder, trying to get a good look at their face. His first instinct was to blame that damned blonde elf who’d disappeared in Ferelden, but no. This person was too tall. Whoever it was, their face was half obscured by the shadow of their hood and a leather mask that covered their face from their nose down. All he could make out was a pair of bright, grey eyes that crinkled at the corners. 

They were…smiling. 

As heavy footsteps came closer, the attacker ripped their arm free of Eoman’s grasp and ran towards the closed window. Just as back up arrived behind him, Eoman watched with annoyance as the invader crashed through the window – glass and wood splintering to the floor – and landed with a roll on the lower rooftop on the building next door. 

“What are you waiting for?” he screamed as assassins behind him paused to watch as the person now scrambled across the tile roof and leapt to the adjuring building. “Follow him! Before he gets away!” 

One by one, the rest of the Crows sprang through the window to give chase. Eoman’s eyes settled upon the knife that still swayed from the hole it had left in the wooden paneling. He wrenched it from the wall and stared down at it. It was an expensive blade, well crafted and made of fine materials. The grip was made of spiraling, carved bone. He tilted it towards him, narrowing his eyes at the two laurel leaves that were carved into the pommel. 

The door closed with a snap behind him. As Eoman turned, he could hear the lock engage. His heart stopped as he turned and realized with embarrassment: this had all been a set up. 

Yet another dark clad figure stood between him and escape. This time he had no question of who it was as the man pulled the hood back from his face. 

“Miss me?”

“You,” Eoman snarled as he held the first attacker’s knife in one hand and his own in the other. “You will not leave House Arainai alive again.” 

Even as he spoke, however, Eoman’s vision began to blur and he could feel the muscles in his arms and legs begin to shake. As he moved to step towards Zevran, his hands gave out and the daggers fell to the floor with a clang. His knees hit the floor next as his fingers clenched weakly, trying to reach out and grasp the knives once more. Instead, his hands felt the cold stone floor and he had to fight keep from falling flat against it. 

“Not bad for an assassin who never made master, no?” Zevran’s arrogant drawl made Eoman growl, even as it became hard to take breaths. “Though, I did have some help.”

“You—you—”

“Yes, yes. I will not leave here alive. You’ve already said,” Zevran went on as he kneeled in front of Eoman. He took the offending blade into his gloved hand examined the grip. “Smart idea, yes? I thought to poison the blade itself, but poisoning the grip?” He made a small clicking sound with his tongue as he smiled maliciously at his former master. “Now that was brilliant. I’m sure even you can appreciate that.”

Eoman’s voice came in short, weak bursts. “I should have killed you after I had you kill that elf bitch. When you were no longer use—"

A gasp left him as he felt cold steel enter his chest. Looking up through clouded eyes, he saw the smile had left Zevran’s face. His eyes were serious and set. 

“Blood will flow through the halls of House Arainai,” Zevran said through gritted teeth. “I will make a pile of ash and corpses out of everything you have worked to achieve. I promise you.”

The dagger left his chest as everything went dark and he fell to the floor. Beyond the sound of his heart beating it’s last, he could here lithe footsteps move towards the broken window. 

Then he was gone. 

_  
**Kingsway 9:31 – Six months after the end of the Fifth Blight – Highever**  
_

“You have his feeding schedule?”

“Yes,” Zevran said with a sigh. “You have your health potions?”

“Yes. You have his spare collar?”

Clucking with exasperation, Zevran set down his pack and gripped Aurelia’s arms. 

“Everything will be fine. Mac and I will get along just fine in Antiva, won’t we?” Zevran looked to the mabari who sat sullenly at his mistress’s feet, but he did give a small yip of assurance as he butted his head against Aurelia’s thigh. 

Aurelia still felt dejected as they stood on the dock. Her eyes were cast downward and she could feel tears threatening to fall. If she cried, she was scared he would be able to leave her. It had been her who had insisted he return with her loyal dog to Antiva, but she still felt so terribly sad at the idea of losing them both, it made her heart ache. 

Suddenly, her arms were around him and her face was buried in his neck. 

“I’m going to miss you,” she whispered, her voice muffled by his cloak. 

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, his hand soothing her hair. She did her best to memorize every part of this moment. The way their bodies felt, pressed together, the smell of his polished leather armor, the sound of his voice. 

“It will not be for long, my love,” he assured her, his voice tender. “You need just to whip the new recruits into shape and you will be back by my side in no time.”

The captain yelled for last call and Aurelia reluctantly pulled away from him, but her hand rested against his cheek as she stared into his face one last time. 

“I love you,” she said, her grey eyes moist. 

Zevran kissed her, his fingers gripping her neck with a fierceness she had not felt since they’d said goodbye before the battle of Denerim. The captain yelled once more and Zevran pulled away, picking up his bag and turning from her. 

“Come, Mac,” he said. 

“You’d better write!” she reminded him as he made his way down the gangway. 

When he finally made it onto the deck, he positioned himself beside the railing and forced himself to smile at her. 

“Do not have too many adventures without me,” he called back. 

She forced herself to smile back, but as the ship got further and further away, the tears finally came. So many what ifs were running through her mind. What if something happened to one of them while they were apart? What if he forgot about her? What if he took another lover?

This was the first time they had parted for such an extended time since they had met. When she’d first laid eyes upon him, she could barely think about the future if it did not involve darkspawn or finding Howe. The rest of life seemed pointless. Now, she desired more than anything to have him in her future. Nothing else – not even helping the Grey Wardens rebuild – seemed of much importance.


	2. Chapter 2

** _Cloudreach 9.32: Denerim_ **

“Is there no way to convince you to stay?” Alistair looked at her sadly as they waited for the guard to open the door to the vault.

“No, we’ve talked about this already,” Aurelia grumbled, shifting the heavy bag she carried from one hand to the other. “We have unfinished business we need to take care of.”

Leliana looked at her friend from the corner of her eyes, a small smirk playing on her lips. 

“We? Or just a certain blonde elf we all know so well?”

As the large metal door creaked open, Aurelia took the distraction and did not respond. Stepping past her friends, she entered the vault and dropped the heavy bag into the center of the room, busying herself with lighting the torch that hung from the wall. Alistair spoke in hushed tones with the guard as Leliana too dropped her bag on the stone floor. 

By the time Alistair finally entered, the guard had stationed himself down the hall, out of ear and eye shot of the trio. The torch was lit and both women were opening their burdens, dispensing a collection of coin, weapons, and other miscellaneous treasures into a series of trunks that sat piled in the corner. 

“I think you may need to purchase some more storage when you arrive back from Antiva,” Leliana commented lightly as she picked up a sparkling amulet and held it up to the light. 

“Oh! You can keep that one,” Aurelia said, stopping in her progress of emptying her hoard. “I was meaning to give it to you, but I thought I’d lost it.”

“I do not understand why you don’t just use the Cousland Castle vault. You carried this all the way back from Amarenthine when you could have just left it down the damn road,” Alistair grumbled as he did his best to shove a long sword into a crate with no avail. 

“What is the point of having named a king if I can’t take advantage of royal security?” Aurelia scoffed. Alistair glared at her, but she smiled back at him. “Besides, I did leave half of it with Fergus, but I can’t keep all my eggs in one basket.”

As Aurelia completed disposing of her pile, she kept one book in her hand. Her smile disappeared as her fingers traced the worn, leather bound tome. Leliana and Alistair both glanced at her, then each other. 

“Another present?” Alistair drawled as he dropped his bag to the floor and took a perch upon one of the trunks. 

“No—well, sort of,” Aurelia said, not looking up to meet their gaze. “Morrigan gave it to me.”

“You found her?” Leliana’s looked shocked. 

Alistair could not help it as his voice rose significantly, “Why didn’t you say anything until now?”

Aurelia shushed him and moved to close the heavy door to the vault. “I wanted to wait until we were somewhere away from prying ears. But yes, I found her. Briefly.”

“Did she say anything about…” Alistair’s voice drifted off, but she knew immediately to what he was referring. 

“She did. She has a son,” Aurelia paused as she watched Alistair’s eyes widen. “That he is unaware of his background and that he is safe.”

Leliana and Aurelia glanced at each other before Aurelia swallowed hard, trying to find her next words carefully. 

“She warned me,” she said slowly. “That something’s coming. The world is going to change. I don’t know what she meant, but she did say that Flemeth didn’t die when we—”

“But we killed her! Dead. Bleeding on the ground. How can she not be--” Alistair rambled on before Aurelia interrupted him. 

“Morrigan seems to think she is a not actually human. I don’t know, but she thought it was important.”

“And the book?” Leliana asked, gesturing towards the tome in Aurelia’s hand. 

Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, Aurelia stared down at the book. Feeling at a loss for words, she took a few moments to consider what she was going to say carefully. Her eyes looked up, worry written all over her face as she gazed at Alistair. 

“It’s…It’s titled the _Calling of the Gods_,” she said, her voice quiet. “It appears Duncan must have written it.”

“What?” Alistair said, breathless as he pushed himself off the crate and took the book from her hands. “When? How?”

“Apparently, Duncan traveled to the Deep Roads with King Maric,” Aurelia said slowly. “A Grey Warden had left for his calling and allied himself with the…the Architect.” The color drained from her face as she glanced at her feet. There was still a great deal of regret in her for having let the Architect live, especially after having faced Alistair’s harsh questioning about it. Before he could go into another session of scolding, she went on, “Morrigan had marked a specific passage. Duncan recounts how one Grey Warden, an elven mage named Fiona, was cured.”

“Cured?” Leliana and Alistair asked at the same time, both of their voices confused. 

“Of the taint,” Aurelia finished, her arms folding across her stomach. 

“That’s impossible,” Alistair scoffed. 

“Does the book say how?” Leliana asked, taking the book from Alistair and flipping through the pages to the section in question. 

“No,” Aurelia conceded. “But I suspect the Architect will have answers.”

“Absolutely not,” Alistair said firmly, guessing her line of thinking. “Besides, scouts say he’s retreated far into the deep roads.”

“We have to at least try—”

“What for? This is what we signed up for as Grey Wardens! We knew the risk.”

“We were twenty years old for fuck’s sake!” Aurelia burst out. “And know the risk my ass! We don’t bother telling people until the damn cup is shoved in their face!”

“The Wardens have to use the taint to sense the dark spawn! And who else will kill an archdemon?”

“Do you really want to leave your country without an heir or king when your calling comes?” Aurelia shot back. “Do you want me to have to sneak off in the middle of the night on some suicide mission to the Deep Roads?”

Alistair opened his mouth to offer a rebuttal, but Leliana spoke first. “What are you suggesting?”

“Firstly,” Aurelia said. “I think we need to find this Fiona and talk to her about what she knows. Secondly, we need to see if there are any Deep Roads entrances that can get us close to the architect.”

“I can help with that,” Leliana said simply, handing the book back to Aurelia. “Let me see what I can dig up.”

“I will just sulk here, annoyed that my friends never heed my warnings,” Alistair sighed. 

Aurelia silently held the book out to him, her eyes not able to meet his. After a few moments passed and Alistair did not take the book, she said, “You’ll want to read this.”

“Why?” Alistair asked suspiciously. 

“Because,” Aurelia had to take a deep breath before she could say what she needed to. “Duncan claims that Fiona is your mother.”

“You’re full of it,” Alistair responded, grabbing the book from her hand and sitting back down on the crate as he flipped through it. 

Leliana could not hide the laughter from her voice as she said, “So that would mean the King of Ferelden is a half elf? Oh, the songs I could write about this.”

* * *

The docks were buzzing and they had to push through the crowd. No one seemed to recognize their king in his plain clothes and dinged up armor, though two equally common looking palace guards followed closely behind them, their hands constantly on the hilts of their swords. 

“I would try to convince you to stay,” Alistair said as they finally stopped in front of the ship that would soon be departing for Antiva. “But Zevran already warned me that if I delayed you any further, he would come here himself to collect you and maim me.”

“You write to each other?” Aurelia asked, slightly surprised. 

“Of course,” Alistair scoffed. “His advice has actually proven surprisingly invaluable.”

“I won’t ask,” she grumbled, not wanting to know exactly which topic Zevran had been offering his expertise on. “Look, Alistair,” she said, moving her weight from what foot to the other awkwardly. “I’m sorry I dumped all that on you about—”

“Please,” Alistair interrupted, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad I know now.” He glanced around, making sure the guards were out of ear shot before he said in a quieter tone, “I’m still not certain I agree with you about going after this mythical cure, but…” He took a deep breath and met her eyes, smiling slightly. “I will support you in this crazy endeavor as much as I can.”

Aurelia dropped her bag to the ground and hugged him tightly around the middle. 

“Thanks, Al,” was all she could say, her heart warming by his statement but also aching slightly at the reality of not knowing when she would see her friend again. 

“Well, I do owe you for that whole naming you Warden-Commander thing,” he relented, hugging her back. 

She punched him lightly in the gut as she pulled away and he rubbed the spot, making a mock face of hurt. 

“You’d better get going,” he said, lifting her bag from the ground and placing it over her shoulder. “Can’t let Zevran wait too long. Promise you’ll write as soon as you arrive and keep me up to date on how the murdering goes.”

She chuckled and stood on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek before turning to head towards the ship. 

“And you tell me how the wife hunting goes!” she called over her shoulder. 

Alistair made a rude gesture with his hand before shaking his head and disappearing back into the crowd.


	3. Chapter 3

** _Bloomingtide 9.32: Antiva City_ **

While she had heard tales of Antiva City from Oriana and Zevran, nothing could have prepared her for the reality. Her nose had been constantly wrinkled as she made her way through the streets and alley ways from the docks. The mixed smells of dead fish and leather overwhelmed her. The sounds of people talking and yelling in a tongue she was only slightly accustomed to made her feel vulnerable.

They had spent two weeks here together, months ago – what felt like years now – but the time had not been enough to help her adjust to being in a foreign city. She suddenly felt envy for her Mac Eanraig cousins, born and raised on warships, having seen every major port along the Waking Sea by the time they were walking. As much as she experienced in the past few years, she still felt like the naïve, inexperienced girl from Highever who had never so much as seen south of Denerim when confronted with being in a new place without any companions at her side. 

She glanced down at the slip of paper in her hand, trying to decipher these directions from Zevran, but her shoulder caught upon a stranger’s and she quickly looked up. 

“Cuidado!” the person yelled, waving his hands at her in frustration. “Mira por donde caminas!”

“Lo siento,” she grumbled before pulling her hood further over her face. 

As she rounded, what she hoped would be the last corner, her eyes lit up. The buildings were all brick or stone, coated with colorful stucco that had faded over the years and fallen off in most places. Shutters with peeling paint were flung open to catch the breeze even as a drizzle wet the stone street. Laundry stretched out on lines from building to building. An older woman was yelling from a window above at a group of children that ran past her. And there, sitting under the sign for the Painted Dove, was Mac. 

Without hesitating, she flung her hood back and whistled. Her dog immediately jumped up from the bed of straw and discarded blankets he was resting on and ran to her. 

“Oh, did you miss me?” she asked, laughing as he let out loud, jovial barks and leapt at her. She barely avoided being knocked over as he rested his large paws on her shoulders and licked her face. “I missed you. It’s so good to see you. Have you been good for Zevran?”

“Oye!” a voice suddenly yelled. Aurelia glanced up and saw a short woman, hands on hips, glaring at her from the entrance to the brothel Zevran had led her to. “Qué estás haciendo?”

Aurelia pushed Mac back to the ground and walked towards the woman, not certain how she should ask what she needed to but also distracted the closer she got to the doorway. The woman appeared to be human, but she barely reached up to Aurelia’s chest. Was she a dwarfling? Never having seen one before, she stared slightly, but the redheaded woman snapped her fingers at her. 

“Eres sordo?” the woman asked harshly. 

“No, I’m—me desculpa,” Aurelia blushed at her obvious staring. “Estoy buscando—”

“Speak Common. Your Antivan sounds like listening to pigs fucking.” Aurelia blanched but the woman did not relent, “What do you want?”

“I’m looking for a woman named Dayana,” Aurelia said, glancing at the note Zevran had written once more to make certain she’d got it right. 

“Who’s asking?” the woman, whom Aurelia assumed was Dayana, spat. “And to be clear, I’m not taking on anymore girls.” She eyed Aurelia up and down, taking in her mud-covered boots and dingy armor. “Especially none dressed like that.”

“I was told you could direct me,” Aurelia explained, still not certain if she should be relieved or insulted this woman wouldn’t want to hire her for she could only guess what. “I’m here to see Zevran Ara—”

Before she could even finish his last name, Dayana stood in front of her, her face tilted back so she could glare up at her. 

“What business have you got with him?” Dayana hissed, her voice dangerously low. 

“I—” It was not often Aurelia got intimidated by people, but staring down into the green eyes of this woman, Aurelia suddenly felt like her life depended on her next words. “My name is Aurelia. He told me to give you this.”

Aurelia handed over the second slip of paper that Zevran had put in his letter to her and wrung her hands nervously as she waited for Dayana to read the note. When she finally looked up, Dayana still had a warning look on her face, but she turned to go back towards the door. 

“About time you showed up,” Dayana grumbled as she waved for Aurelia to follow her. “While this one’s good at chasing off the mean ones, he’s scared off all the decent ones as well. Lousy mutt.” 

Mac gave a half-hearted bark, but Aurelia motioned for him to stay as she followed Dayana inside. 

The paneling in the main hallway was painted a deep red. Unlit candles sat in holders all the way up the stair well, but at the moment the room was dark and shadowed. Aurelia only chanced a quick look around before following Dayana quickly into the other room. They moved quickly through what appeared to be a parlor, with numerous chairs and couches, and yet again numerous candles that remained unlit. Through there they entered a kitchen. As the door opened, Aurelia was slightly blinded by the light and over taken by the noise of numerous people all talking at once. 

The hearth was ablaze and two bathtubs were set before it. Two women, who Aurelia immediately averted her gaze from, were completely naked and washing themselves down with water warmed by the fire. 

“Take a seat,” Dayana instructed, motioning towards the long table. A few women sat at it, writing letters or reading papers, they glanced at Aurelia suspiciously as she took a careful seat between them. “Zevran won’t be up for several hours yet.”

“Can you not wake him?” Aurelia asked, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. 

“No,” Dayana said simply. “I’m under strict orders not to disturb him before sunrise.”

“If you would just tell me which room is his, I could—”

“He keeps the door locked from the inside,” Dayana responded, turning her back to inspect the hair of one of the women in the bath. “If you want to go outside and climb through the window, be my guest. But I must warn you, he is armed.”

By the time Dayana turned back around, Aurelia was gone.

* * *

He had had the same dream for the past month, ever since she had sent word that she was on her way. They were standing on the deck of a ship. Her arm was wrapped around his shoulder, his arm around her waist as they stared off into the setting sun. He would glance up at her, her hair whipping into her face. She was smiling, her eyes bright as she turned to him. He would feel himself smiling back up at her. Then she would lower her face to his and—

The sudden creaking of the window on the other side of the room tore him from his dream and he wanted to curse aloud. It had been nine months since he had last seen her – though it was not as if he was counting – yet she appeared in his dreams every day. It was still not enough to make up for her absence and it had shocked him how much he had truly missed her. A seething annoyance formed in his chest as he realized the wind had disturbed his short time with her dream self. 

Another creak caught his ear, this time it was the floorboard beneath the window. He kept his eyes shut and he laid still, stomach down on the bed, as he listened for more movement. Not the wind, he quickly realized, as what sounded like a bag or pack was set onto the floor at the end of his bed. 

Whoever it was had light feet, he noted, listening to the soft steps of boots on wood as whoever it was made their way around the bed to near where he was. His hand slowly snaked under his pillow and gripped the dagger he kept there, his teeth gritting as he waited. 

When he felt the light touch upon his bare shoulder, he quickly spun, his hand reaching out for the throat as he wrenched the dagger from it’s hiding place. He heard a small, familiar squeal, and as he looked into the face of the intruder, his blade inches from her face. When he realized who it was, he too gasped and the knife fell to the floor. 

“Lia!” he said, immediately letting go of her throat and moving his hands to her face. “Oh, my love. I’m so—”

“Dayana tried to warn me,” Aurelia admitted as she moved the hair back from his face. “But I couldn’t wait until sundown. I needed to see you.”

They stared at each other for a long time, each assessing the other’s face for any significant changes that had appeared in their time apart. Zevran ran his fingers over a new scar that formed above her left eyebrow. She traced the faint line that had formed on his chin. Her hair had grown longer, he noted as he twirled a piece of the now shoulder length mane around his finger. 

“You didn’t cut your hair,” she said, sounding slightly sullen. “I was hoping I’d finally have hair longer than yours.”

“And risk your wrath if you did not find it to your liking?” he said, making a ‘tsking’ noise at her as he pulled her down onto the bed. “Do not lie, my dear warden. I know you only love me for my hair, no?”

“That and your incredibly skilled tongue,” she teased, her mouth pulled into a teasing smirk. 

He kissed her and it suddenly felt like everything was right in the world once more. He took a moment to relish in the feel of her soft lips opening under his own, enjoying the familiar taste of her mouth. She shivered beneath him and his heart felt like it might give out. The dreams he’d had of her had truly not done her justice. 

As he pulled away and moved his hands to untie her hood, she sighed. 

“You have an unfair advantage,” she whined, running her hands down his bare chest. “You’re already naked.”

“Well, if you stopped squirming and offered a helping hand, we could rectify that quickly, no?” he said, feeling slightly breathless. 

Laying with all his other bedfellows had been for profit or for a momentary escape of pleasure. There had never been this driving need inside of him, this urgency that drove him to the brink of sanity. A part of him had thought that with time apart, this need would lessen, that he would not want her as strongly as he had when they first shared a bed. In fact, quite the opposite had occurred. Having been apart from her for so long, he was not sure he’d be able to remove all of her clothes before he ravaged her. 

When her small clothes finally hit the floor, he wasted no time in spreading her legs with his knees. He took her wrists into his hands and pinned them to the bed above her head as he entered her. She let out a gasp and arched into him. He could feel her entire body rising up to meet him, her skin already slick with sweat. 

“Did you miss me, Aurelia?” he whispered into her ear. Not waiting for an answer, he moved his lips down to her neck, his teeth gliding across the skin. As he heard her take a shaky breath, he took her ear lobe between his teeth and bit gently. It tore a moan from her and he could not help but smile, satisfactorily.

“Of course, I did,” she said, short breaths punctuating her words as she enveloped his hips with her thighs, the heels of her feet coming to rest against his backside, pulling him further inside of her. “Did you…did you miss me?”

The tone in her voice, almost hidden by the groan she let out as he slammed into her, made him furrow his brow. Removing her wrists from his hands, he pushed himself up on his elbows to more closely examine her face. Her grey eyes were hazed over, but he could see it there, reflected was the emotion he’d heard in her voice: concern. 

“Do you not know?” He crashed into her again, eliciting another moan from her lips. Her eyes were shut tight as he set a hard, steady pace. When she did not open them, he stopped moving. He waited until she blinked up at him, her eyelids hooded, before he went on, “I have dreamt about you every night, my darling. When I awake, you invade my thoughts. To say I have missed you would not do justice to the longing I have felt for you.” 

Concern disappeared from her eyes and was replaced by a look of such tenderness that it made his heart beat even faster than it was already. Her hands moved to push the hair back from his face.

“Zevran—” she whispered, looking as if she meant to say more, but he thrust into her again with such force that her words were swallowed by her whimpers. “Zevran!”

A warmth rushed through him as he listened to her calling his name at such a volume; he was certain they’d hear it throughout the house. There was a knot forming in his stomach, growing tighter with every thrust and every scream. 

“Please, oh Maker—” she begged, her fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulder. “Zevran, please!”

He did not need to ask her what it was she was pleading for. Even if he did, he was not sure he could form the words as he ground his hips down into hers. A long string of swears left her mouth, occasionally interrupted as she cried his name. The look on her face and the way her thighs clamped around him was enough to send him tumbling over the edge after her. 

“Lia!” he gasped as his own orgasm overwhelmed him. 

Once he’d finally regained control of his breathing, he opened his eyes to find himself laying facedown on the bed next to her. Her fingers were combing through his hair and she had that languid smile on her face that he adored so much. It was a strange feeling to be next to her once more. He’d had many dreams like this only to wake up, cold and alone. He brushed his thumb over her swollen lips and smiled back at her. 

“I do not think I can bare to part from you again,” he said quietly. 

“Nine months is too long,” she agreed. 

“Next time you have some impossible mission to contend with,” he insisted, rising to rest his head on his fist as his fingers played with the gold hoop she still had in her ear . “You do not get to leave me behind. Agreed?”

“Promise.”


	4. Chapter 4

“A cure?”

Zevran looked up from the glass of brandy he was filling, his hand frozen on the bottle and his eyebrows arched as he turned to stare at her.

This was the last thing Zevran was expecting. They had spent the past several hours catching up, filling each other in on the events that had transpired since they’d last seen each other. There was only so much you could put into a letter. In her last one, she had simply said she’d found Morrigan and was returning to Antiva. Nothing more. 

He’d expected a tale of an altercation. Even a tearful apology from Morrigan would have been less shocking than this. 

The sound of liquid hitting the wooden mantlepiece startled him out of his surprise and he cursed, setting the bottle back down. He took a large sip off the glass before he returned to the bed where Aurelia sat, her legs folded and her hands nervously combing through her ever-unruly hair. 

“How do you know it is not a work of fiction?”

“You sound like Alistair,” she grumbled, taking the glass he offered and bringing it to her lips. 

“I simply do not want to get too hopeful,” he said quietly as he laid down in front of her, resting his head on his fist as he watched her. “Do you have any idea where this Fiona might be now?”

“Weisshaupt, probably. Leliana said she’d look into it.” Her eyes watched him in return, one eyebrow arching as her lips pulled down into a frown. “You don’t seem pleased.”

“I’m just…” He was not certain he could find the word. Shocked did not seem to fit the emotion that was bubbling in his chest and buzzing around his brain. 

The taint had been their constant companion since the moment they had met. He could not count the nights she had woken him up, thrashing in the bed beside him as she fought off the nightmares. There was a reason, despite the numerous occasions they had been lax in their use of measures that were necessary in preventing pregnancy, that she still failed to miss a monthly cycle. While they had never spoken of the side effects of becoming a Grey Warden, they had not needed to. Alistair had been forthright in answering all of Zevran’s questions. 

He had simply accepted that his time with her would not last forever. It had been easy to accept in the beginning, when the concept of creating a life with another person had not crossed his mind, when the idea of losing her did not make his heart clench. Recently, he just simply tried not to think of it. It was more than probable that neither of them would make it to a time when she would face her calling. 

Now, here they were and Zevran suddenly could not get the words of the fortune teller from his childhood out of his head. 

_You will not die young,_

Images floated across his mind: the two of them growing old together, her hair turning grey, laugh lines forming around her mouth, a small child with his blonde hair and her grey eyes. He had to take a deep breath and roll onto his back, shutting his eyes as he tried to push the idea away. 

“It’s a lot to consider,” he said finally. 

Her hands were on his chest and when he opened his eyes, she was moving to straddle his hips with her own, smiling down at him wickedly. 

“We do not have to consider any of that now,” she pointed it, running her fingers down his stomach towards where their hips met. “That all can wait until we hear from Leliana.”

Banishing the thoughts from his mind, he smiled up at her and laced his fingers through hers.

* * *

They did not leave their room for nearly four days. Instead, they stayed holed up, talking and making plans between intermittent sessions of love making. 

Before the sunset on the fourth day, Aurelia finally ventured out to the kitchen. Dinner had not appeared at their threshold that evening and their supply of bread had run out. She threw on a shirt of Zevran’s over her worn breeches and tiptoed down the stairs barefoot. 

When she reached the second floor, a few of the girls moved past her, their full skirts squeezing her into the wall. One did not pay her any attention, but the second gave her a wink and a knowing smile. By the time she pushed open the door to the kitchen, Aurelia was blushing. 

“You should be cleaning yourself up,” Dayana said in Antivan without turning from the table where she sat, counting coin and making notes in a ledger. “Didn’t I just tell you that you’ve got an hour before—”

“Sorry to disturb you,” Aurelia said quickly, doing her best not to wring her hands in front of her. “I was hoping maybe we could maybe grab supper before the…” Her voice drifted off, not certain what to call them. Customers? Clients?

Dayana turned, leaning her arm on the table and eying Aurelia up and down. After a few seconds, she looked to the other woman in the kitchen who was tending the hearth. “Get the girl a platter, will you,” she ordered, again in Antivan before turning back to Aurelia and addressing her in Common. “You give my girls a run for their money with the way you’re carrying on up there.”

Aurelia blanched, not certain if the shorter woman was complimenting her or throwing a barb. Her mind whirled trying to think of an appropriate response, but Dayana just went on. 

“I had wondered why Zevran wouldn’t even so much as look at my girls when he came back,” she said absentmindedly as she turned back to her ledger. “Didn’t think there was any coño that could make that man be faithful.”

The serving girl rescued her from having to wrangle together a response when she placed a platter of food on the table in front of Aurelia. 

“Er, thank you,” she said quickly, taking the food in hand. Dayana simply waved her off. 

When she pushed the door back open to their room, Zevran glanced up at her from where he sat by the fire, pieces of parchment laid out around him with the scrawling series of maps and notes they’d made. The look on her face made him wrinkle his brow at her as she sat the food down beside him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously. 

“Nothing,” Aurelia said quickly, but her lip was still caught between her teeth. After a moment, she asked, “How do you know Dayana?”

It had been a question she’d been meaning to ask since she’d arrived, but every time she thought of it, he distracted her before she could form the words. Given where they were currently hiding out and the occupation of the red head, Aurelia’s suspicions were obviously high. A part of her could not help but find it odd, though, that Zevran would so blatantly bring her to the house of an old flame. Would he?

“We grew up together,” he said simply, moving a few of his papers around so she could sit beside him. “We were raised in the same whore house in Rialto. I was sold off to the Crows, she into prostitution. We met again, by chance, a year or so before I went to Ferelden to murder some rather attractive Grey Wardens. She has done well for herself.”

“Were you ever…”

“Involved?” Zevran offered, looking at her with a small smirk at her obvious concern. “No. Does that remedy your concerns?”

“Mostly,” she said, her face still thoughtful. “What does coño mean?”

Zevran threw his head back, laughing. She made a face at him as she took a seat beside him, ripping off a piece of bread as she waited for him to stop. 

“You’ve been here less than a week,” he said between chuckles. “And they’re already corrupting you.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Who’s first then?” Aurelia asked, setting her chin on her fists as she stared up at him from where she lay stomach down on the floor. Mac lay beside her, his head resting against her back. 

The fire was casting shadows across Zevran’s tan face. His eyes were set as he stared down at the list he had made. As much as she knew she should be focusing on the task at hand, her concentration was beginning to wane the longer she stared at him. It was such a rare occurrence to see him so serious unless they were fighting. To see him so focused with that little wrinkle between his eyebrows made her want to throw him to the floor atop all the plans they’d laid and ravage him. 

She sighed at the thought, realizing that they should probably get out of this room. 

Zevran glanced down at her when he heard her sigh, arching an eyebrow. When he saw the impatient look on her face, he laughed and Aurelia couldn’t help but scowl at him as she pushed herself back up to her knees. 

“Can’t we just get some lyrium powder and blow the whole place to kingdom come already?”

“You truly are a criminal mastermind,” he drawled, chuckling slightly. 

“Bollocks. Who thought of the old poison on the handle, hm?”

Tossing the paper into the fire, he watched it burn for a moment before he said softly, “Gustavo Arainai.”

Aurelia was quiet as she drew up the tidbits of information Zevran had given her about that particular name. Her pout turned into a thoughtful frown as she watched him continue to throw pieces of parchment into the flames. 

“The man who does all the procuring?” she asked quietly. 

“Yes,” Zevran said, not taking his eyes off the flames as he explained, “If we annihilate him, we cut off their supply of new recruits.”

“Where will we find him?” she asked. 

He had one last piece of parchment, a rough map of the country he had drawn for her benefit. He set the page before her and placed his finger on one of the stars he had made, depicting cities. “Rialto,” he said, waiting until she looked up from the map to his face before throwing that too into the fire. “The market is next week. He will not miss it.”

“I’m assuming he won’t be shopping for in season crops,” she sighed, feeling slightly sick at the thought of witnessing the sale of people. 

“Alas, no. You are a perceptive one, Aurelia Cousland,” he teased, dodging the piece of bread she threw at his head.

* * *

To say he was uncomfortable being back in his hometown would be an understatement. The happiest memory he had of this place was one particular assassination that proved successful in more ways than one. However, even the memory of that spectacular night did nothing to remedy his sour mood. 

The rain gave them an excuse to keep their hoods up and their faces out of site, but it also meant that he could not see Aurelia’s face. He wondered what was going through her mind as they walked these streets. She occasionally had asked him questions about his childhood and where he had grown up, but her reactions were never what he had expected. A sadness always came to her eyes whenever he spoke of such things and he wondered now if she weren’t recalling his tales as they walked. 

As if sensing his thoughts, he felt her gloved hand wrap around his own. When he looked up, he was able to catch her smile briefly before she looked back ahead. He felt his chest contract a bit as he laced his fingers through hers. 

His worries quieted and he suddenly felt stronger, just for having her by his side.

* * *

“There he is. By the side door,” Zevran whispered into her ear as they clung to the back wall of the market hall. Aurelia glanced from under her hood, scanning the opposite wall for their target. 

“The big man? Mustache?” 

“That’s him,” he said, placing a hand on her elbow as he insisted, “We must remain out of site. If we make our presence known we’ll be—”

As the first sale of the day stepped onto the stage, Aurelia could no longer hear his words. The auctioneer stood in the center of the wooden platform as a small, elven child was brought on to stand next to him, his eyes narrowed and his chin stubbornly set. His mousy brown hair was greasy and his clothes were tattered, but still he glared out at the crowd. 

“We’ll start the bidding at 50 silver!” the auctioneer shouted in Antiva. Aurelia could hardly make out the words, but she caught the price and she felt as though she might faint. 

Glancing around the room, she saw that she was not the only person who took note of the young boy’s confident nature. Her eyes fell upon the big man – Gustavo – that Zevran had pointed out. He was speaking quietly to the man beside him before he raised his hand and shouted, “Uno Andris!”

“Aurelia, no—”

She didn’t realize she was stepping forward until Zevran’s fingers flew past her arm as she walked closer towards the stage. His voice drifted away once more as she raised her own hand. 

“Cinco!”

Every face seemed to be upon her. She could see Gustavo glaring at her out of the corner of her eye, but she refused to be cowed. 

“Seis!” he called out. 

“Diez,” she said firmly and a quiet hush fell upon the room. When no one else bid, the auctioneer brought down his gavel. 

As Aurelia walked towards the stage, whispers and murmurs erupted around her. She dug out her coin purse from the pocket she had sewn inside of her chest piece. She counted ten gold pieces out as she climbed the stairs, placing it into the hand of the auctioneer. She did not even bother waiting for him to count it before she took hold of the boy’s shoulder and led him back through the crowd. 

“Vamos rápido,” she told the boy as he tried to shake of her hand, but once she’d realized that Zevran was no longer anywhere in site, her sense of urgency only increased. She knew what would come next. 

“Where are you taking me?” the boy asked in Antivan. 

“Anywhere that isn’t here,” she hissed. 

Just as they reached the door, loud gasps emitted from the audience and Aurelia couldn’t bring herself to look back. Instead, she continued to push the boy through the exit and into the crowded street.

* * *

When Zevran finally found the pair, they were almost out of the city. Deciding it might be best for them to move separately through the crowd leading to the gates, he stayed several paces behind them until the road began to thin of people. He was far enough away that no one would think they were travelling together, but close enough that he could still make out some of the conversation between Aurelia and her new young charge. 

“How old are you?” Aurelia asked in her still rough Antivan. 

“How old are you?” the boy shot back, glaring up at the woman who’d purchased him. 

Zevran would have felt the urge to laugh were he not so frustrated with the situation. 

They had formulated a perfectly good plan. Everything was right as it should have been and in comes Aurelia on yet another thoughtless crusade to do the decent thing. Why must she be so damned perplexing? One moment she was cheerfully planning a murder, the next she could not bare the site of a boy being sold? Zevran could not understand it. 

“What’s your name?” Aurelia asked, her lips turned down into a thoughtful frown. 

“Why do you care? You bought me! You get to call me whatever you want!” 

No longer able to passively stand back and listen to this introduction continue to go downhill, Zevran stepped up alongside Aurelia.

“Correct me if I am wrong,” he groaned, casting a sideways look of disapproval her way. “But we did not plan for a distraction.”

Quite the opposite, in fact. They had formulated the precise time the auction would end. They knew the exact streets Gustavo would turn down. They knew how many men they’d need to subdue before reaching their target. Instead, Zevran had been forced to use every ounce of his stealth ability to slip a poisoned dagger into Gustavo’s side without being seen. If it hadn’t been for the stir Aurelia had caused, he would not have made it out alive.

Aurelia looked sheepish as she met his gaze. “Zevran, I couldn’t just—”

“Did you buy him, too?” the boy interrupted, his eyes still narrowed at Aurelia with intense suspicion. 

“No, she did not,” Zevran responded for her. “She did save my life as well, however, so I would suggest you be a little more grateful that she spared you from being sold to the Crows.”

The young man’s face turned even paler as he stared, wide eyed at Zevran.

“The—the Crows?”

“If you prefer, we can take you back and—”

“No, no!” the boy waved his now free hands and before Zevran or Aurelia could catch up stomped off down the road, forcing his followers to quicken their pace. 

“What did you say to him?” Aurelia asked, chancing another look at Zevran’s face. 

His teeth were clenched as he looked back at her, not bothering to answer her question, but instead demanding, “Why must you always feel the need to pick up every stray that falls into your path?”

“Zevran, I—”

But he did not let her go on. “What happens when one day someone is not so grateful for your compassion? Hm?”

“And what would have happened to you if I were so quick with a death sentence?” she shot back, her voice rising. “Or Sten for that matter! Or—”

Letting out a loud huff, Zevran increased his pace and went to walk along the still unnamed child. 

* * *

Zevran was not the only one obviously displeased by the addition to their party. 

“Are you a dwarf?” were the first words out of Niko’s (he’d finally revealed his name after hours of relentless questioning from Zevran) mouth upon seeing Dayana. 

Dayana glared at the lad, who was nearly as tall as she was. 

“What am I supposed to do with him?” Dayana asked in Common, her eyebrows knit together as she surveyed the young man from head to toe. Several of her “girls” were moving around Niko and speaking quietly amongst themselves. “He smells.”

“I’ll pay for his board,” Aurelia insisted, but Dayana just gave her an annoyed glare before casting her eyes to Zevran. 

“Don’t make it a habit of bringing uninvited guests in here. First a dog, now this,” she clicked her tongue and said something in Antivan to the woman next to her who nodded and scurried towards the kitchen. “I’ll only allow it because he reminds me of you at this age.” The first smile Aurelia had ever seen from the red head flashed across Dayana’s face. “All bones and terrible manners.”

Dayana reached her hand out to the boy and must have said something enticing, because Niko took her hand, glancing at Aurelia and Zevran over his shoulder briefly before the madame led him towards the kitchen. 

Aurelia watched him go before glancing at Zevran, but he was already making his way up the stairs. 

For what felt like hours, neither of them spoke. Normally, a comfortable silence would have not made her so weary, but this was not a content quiet. There was a tension that hung in the air between them and she could not place exactly what might be the cause of his anger. 

She could still hear the frustration in his voice when he’d told her off about acquiring less than savory company. It had immediately reminded her of Oghren when Nathaniel had cornered them after she’d set him free. _”He might pull a Zevran,”_ he had warned, but Aurelia did not understand then – as she did not understand now – what the harm was in giving someone a second chance. 

She sat across the room, rummaging through her pack for a spare shirt, occasionally glancing up at him. He was stretched across the bed, a book hiding his face. Whether he was actually reading or pretending to, she couldn’t tell. As she looked at him, she could not help but imagine what he did look like at Niko’s age. Had he stood on that same stage? Was this what upset him? Did her buying Niko remind him of a part of his past he wished to move on from?

When she glanced back down into her bag, something sparkly caught her eye. The two rings she’d brought from Denerim were tied together with a piece of ribbon, sitting at the bottom of her bag. She’d nearly forgotten about them, but was suddenly grateful for their reappearance among her belongings. Dropping the pile of clothes she held in her arms, she took the rings in hand and moved towards the bed. 

“I have something for you,” she said, the first words either of them had uttered since returning to their room. 

“More presents,” he groaned, but she was grateful that he at least set his book down as she laid next to him, holding the rings above her head so they caught the light. “Are you trying to distract me with sparkly jewelry?” he asked and she couldn’t help but laugh as she realized he was mimicking the words she’d said to him the second time he’d offered the earing that still hung from her ear. 

“Aren’t they lovely? This one is a near flawless diamond,” she explained as she held up the one she’d had sized larger for his hand. “I had it made for you.” 

She tried to hold it out for him to take, but his hands did not move. His eyes did watch the ring, however, as she purposefully modeled it to tempt him. 

“This is too fine,” he insisted and her heart sank. “Why did you go through all this trouble?”

Glancing over at him, she frowned. After all this time, did he truly think that it was a trouble to think of him? 

“Because, I kept stumbling upon all these beautiful gem stones while wandering around with the wardens. In the dark roads or under the keep. We were supposed to be focusing on finding the Architect or keeping the Teryn together and all I could think about was how you’d like them.”

She realized that she was rambling and not fully getting her point across. Her mind whirled with what words she should use to convey exactly what it was she’d been feeling when she’d had them made. Rolling onto her stomach, she rested her chest against his, her face inches from his own. 

Holding the ring in front of his eyes, she smiled as she finished, “I couldn’t wait to give them to you. It made me realize how lucky I am to have you.” She saw his face soften slightly and went on, “That even when we are apart, you’re never really far from my thoughts.”

His eyes finally met hers and she smiled wider. The weight on her heart lifted as he took the ring from her, examining it for a moment before placing it on his finger. 

“I did not think buying Niko would hurt you,” she said quietly as she settled her palms atop his chest and rested her chin upon them. 

“You did not think,” Zevran said quietly, his eyes still on the diamonds as he twisted his hand back and forth, admiring it. 

With a small sigh, she admitted honestly, “No. No, I didn’t.”

Zevran finally tore his eyes from the ring to look into her face. His eyes seemed sad and Aurelia felt her heart clench as he rested the palm of his hand against her cheek. 

“This is not Ferelden, my love,” he told her. “Outside of your homeland, the rest of Thedas is a different place. There is a different code of morals. You will witness many terrible things here and will not be able to save every person in strife you encounter.”

“Does that mean I should not try?” she countered and she was relieved to see him smile at her lopsidedly. 

“I would find it highly out of character if you did not,” he relented with a long sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has been much slower going than my last ones. Partially because of real life business, but more so because there's substantially less "canon" material to go on. The freedom is nice in a way, but I've still spent a lot of time doing research. (Maybe too much!) Anyways, if you're following along, know there's plenty of muse for this story and while it may be slower on updates, it will have an ending!


	6. Chapter 6

“What is she doing? Is she going to tie me up?” Niko sounded skeptical and slightly frantic as he did his best to move away from Aurelia but she had him cornered by the fireplace in the parlor. 

Exasperated, Aurelia put down her hands that held the knotted cord and turned to Zevran. 

“Will you please tell him I just need to measure for new clothes?” 

Zevran was stretched out on the couch, watching the scene with some amusement as Aurelia glared at him in frustration. 

The language barrier was proving to be a little more than a challenge. While Niko had somewhat warmed up to Dayana and Zevran over the past few days, he still remained wary of the foreign human. Anytime she came near him, he recoiled and tried to run from the room. It was as though he expected her to put him back in chains and take him to the market. 

“Zevran!” she snapped. 

With a small sigh, he looked at Niko and said calmly in Antivan, “Relax, boy. She just wants to buy you some new clothes.” 

“Clothes? What for?” the boy’s face was still uncertain and it felt as though Zevran could hear his thoughts. He knew that he must be wondering what ulterior motive this tall woman must have to buy him new garments. 

“Because yours still smell no matter how many times Dayana washes them and they are mostly holes,” Zevran said simply. Niko flushed with embarrassment and looked down, defeated, as he held his arms out for Aurelia to continue her measuring. 

“Thank you,” Aurelia said and Zevran couldn’t tell if she was speaking to him or her young charge. 

Niko stayed silent, his eyes still focused on his feet. 

“Thank you,” Zevran repeated in common before he prompted in Antivan, “That is what you should say when someone does something nice for you.”

Niko met his eyes before looking back at Aurelia. “Thank you,” he repeated quietly. 

The smile that lit Aurelia’s face made Zevran’s own lips turn up. 

“De nada,” she said ruffled the boy’s hair. 

Once Aurelia had gotten her measurements and gone, Zevran moved to the desk and began finalizing their plans for their next mark. Niko sat on the floor, playing with Mac and Zevran almost forgot he was there until an hour later, he heard his hesitant voice. 

“Is it true you’re really a Crow?”

“Was,” Zevran corrected, not bothering to look up from his parchment and quill. “Past tense, my young friend.”

“They just let you leave?” Niko asked, sounding confused. 

“It is not so simple.” Zevran glanced up from the desk and saw the worried expression on Nikos face. 

Upon seeing Zevran’s arched eyebrow, Niko said, timidly, “Some friends of mine were sold to them last year. I was too young still, they said. I haven’t heard from them since.” His eyes were hopeful as he asked, “Will they be able to leave? Like you did?”

“Unfortunately, not,” Zevran said simply, attempting to turn back to the work at hand, but he was interrupted once more. 

“How did you get out then?”

Letting out a long sigh, Zevran set his quill down and turned completely toward Niko. “I took a contract in Ferelden to kill two Grey Wardens.” 

Niko’s eyes widened more, if that were possibly. He sat up on his knees at attention, excited and curious now. “Did you succeed?”

“Alas, no. They bested me.”

“How did you survive then? Did you escape?”

Zevran chuckled, his memory floating back to those first days with the wardens and their assorted group of travelers. “They spared my life in return for assisting with the Blight—”

Niko could not control his excitement as he interrupted, “You helped the Hero of Ferelden?” His face was one of awe but also disbelief. “Were you there when they killed the archdemon?”

“Not with them, no, but I was at the battle of Denerim.”

The memory of it made Zevran frown, slightly. As he studied Niko’s face, he wondered how much of the tale had made it to Antiva. It was apparent that no one really recognized her face – not that she had truly shown her face to anyone aside from Niko and the ladies of the Dove – and that few people on this side of the Waking Sea recognized her name, though they were careful to keep silent on her family name thus far. What legend had Aurelia sprouted that now took root in this young boy’s head?

“Where is she now? The Hero of Ferelden? Is she still with the Grey Wardens?”

Zevran couldn’t help but smirk as he turned back to his parchment. 

“No,” he said slowly. “She’s out buying you clothes.”

* * *

“I think I need to try harder at learning Antivan,” Aurelia commented lightly. 

He could see her face in the mirror as she sat at the table. There was no vanity in their room. Zevran wasn’t even sure if there was one in this entire house. Instead, she’d purchased a small, used mirror from the market and set it against the wall so she could continue her nightly ritual of brushing her hair. She looked pensive as she pulled the brush through her now long locks. 

“Hm? You will learn it eventually,” he murmured, not really paying much attention. 

Zevran propped himself up on the pillows, placing his arms behind his head as he admired her. For not the first time since she’d arrived from Ferelden, he marveled at the fact that she was even here. They had shared tents and rooms during the blight, of course, but that had felt different, less permanent. Even in their travels since, they had been on the move so much there was little time to stop and set down some roots. 

Yet here they were and Aurelia had already made this shabby room feel like a home. She rambled on about her desire to become fluent in Antivan, yet Zevran’s mind drifted to yet another matter. 

“It would be nice to be able to haggle at the market and talk with Niko. He’s stopped wincing away from me, but he gives me the most peculiar looks now. You didn’t say anything to him, did y—”

“Are you comfortable here?” Zevran interrupted, not wanting to own up to the fact quite yet that he might have revealed Aurelia’s infamy to the boy. 

“What?” Aurelia set her brush down and turned to look at him. “Comfortable? Where? In Antiva?”

“In Antiva, in this room, just—here,” he said, not exactly certain how he could express his concern. “I saw Highever, Lia. I saw the room you grew up in. It is…much different than where you find yourself now, is it not?”

This was no castle they lived in now. There was no servant to clean their room, to polish their armor. This was not a quiet city where everyone knew her and respected her simply for her right of birth. This was not the familiar home she knew.

She was silent for a minute, her lip catching between her teeth as she stared at a far wall. Zevran waited patiently, knowing that she was trying to deduce the answer for herself. 

“I miss Ferelden” she said honestly, her gray eyes meeting his once more. “I miss Fergus and Alistair. I miss our friends. But if you’re thinking I need a hundred servants and a feather bed to be comfortable, you must be forgetting that the first time we kissed, we did so on the cold ground beside the fire.”

Zevran’s lips twitched up as he remembered the moment. How uncertain, yet excited she had looked, how she had purred his name. He let out a small humming noise as she stood from her chair and crossed the room. She was dressed only in her night shirt. It hung over one shoulder and he could see her bare legs as she pulled the shirt up to climb onto the bed. 

“Anywhere I am with you, I am home, Zev,” she said quietly. She set her hands on his chest as she straddled him. Her fingers followed the patterns of his tattoos as he stared into her eyes. The sweetness of her voice and the light touch of her fingers made his heart palpitate uncomfortably. 

As he opened his mouth to respond, the romantic mood in the room was ruined as the sounds of ecstatic cries and beds squeaking from the room below them. 

Aurelia sat back against his thighs, letting out a loud peel of laughter. Zevran could not help but smirk, rolling his eyes lightly at the sudden intrusion. 

“You must admit, the ambiance here is quite spectacular,” he joked, his breath catching as her lips replaced her fingers on his chest.

* * *

Niko pointed towards one of the crates. 

“Potato,” Aurelia told him, making sure to say the word slowly. 

“Potato,” he repeated, sounding out every syllable. “Patata,” he told her in Antivan. 

“Patata,” she mimicked and was rewarded with a bright smile. 

“Buena!” he said, sounding proud and she could not help but smile back at him. 

They continued that way through the market, each pointing out an object and helping the other to sound it out in their respective languages. 

He had been with them for a month now and aside from the obvious help with getting used to the language, Aurelia found herself rather liking the company. Zevran refused to go out during the daytime for obvious reasons and it was actually quite reassuring to have a native accompany her on her walkabouts. Even if he was only eight years old. 

What she knew of the boy so far had mostly come from Zevran. He was eight years old, or so he thought he was. He had grown up the child of a servant to a banker, but his mother had died several years ago giving birth to another babe. When the banker had died, his wife had sold of Niko and several other servants to pay the remainder of their ‘debts’ to said family. Zevran at one point had explained the idea of indentured servitude to Aurelia, but she had difficulty not comparing it to slavery still. 

“Can I…” Niko’s voice drifted off and Aurelia glanced down at him as he wrinkled his brows, trying to think of the words in Common. “Will you…teach?”

Aurelia blinked, not certain what he was trying to say, until he pointed at the small dagger hanging from her belt. Aurelia met his gaze again. His eyes were hopeful, but she frowned slightly. 

It felt hypocritical to deny him. She had been younger than he was when she’d received her first blade. By his age, she was practicing daily on both blades and the bow. Who was she to say no? She was not his parent, after all. A part of her wanted to spare him, though, the life that came with baring arms, but she sighed. Had she not learned to how to protect herself, she surely would have been dead by now. Life had no qualms about throwing perils in the direction of anyone, regardless of whether or not they could wield a sword. 

“Maybe once you know how to read,” she said and he furrowed his brows more. “Una vez que aprendes a leer?”

He sighed as well, moving his eyes back down to the cobble stones. Her heart sank slightly as she looked back up at the stalls. 

“Ah!” she said, her eyes catching on a small bow that hung from the side of a stall. “Qué tal esto?” _(“How about this?”)_ she asked, pulling it down and holding it up to him. It was a little too big for him, but he would grow into it. 

His face brightened and the smile was still on his face as they made their way out of the market, the bow swung proudly over his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly, placing his hand into hers as he looked up at her, smiling. 

“You’re welcome,” she said, giving his hand a gently squeeze.


	7. Chapter 7

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Zevran could hear Aurelia panting under her breath. 

She glanced over his shoulder and caught her eye, looking relieved that he was still right behind her, but her eyes darkened and he assumed that so must be the pack of Crows. 

It had been imprudent of them to get so close to House Arainai. They had known that security was up after the death of Gustavo – the third death in House Arainai in a little over a year. Yet they had still recklessly thought that they would not be seen. 

The roof was ending quickly and Zevran glanced at Aurelia. She did not hesitate and flung herself from one roof to the next, landing in a roll before she stood and kept running. He felt his feet leave steady ground as he jumped after her, landing hard on a knee and the palm of his hands. Taking the chance to glance back, he saw that they had at least slowed the crowd that followed him. 

“Hurry up!” she hissed at him and Zevran looked up to see her sitting on the peak of the roof, her hand reaching out to him. He ran to her, his feet slipping slightly on the tiles as he reached his arm out towards her. She caught him by the forearm and helped to haul him up the rest of the way. 

They ran along the peak for a few minutes, listening to the shouts behind them, when suddenly, Aurelia turned to grip his wrist. She knelt, her free hand bracing her as she took a sharp left down the tiled roof, dragging Zevran with her. 

For a few brief moments, Zevran thought she had killed them. The street below was coming quickly as their armor sled easily down the terra cotta. Just as suddenly as she’d pulled them down the roof, they came to an abrupt halt as Aurelia grabbed on to a piece of copper gutter and stalled their descent. If it weren’t for the hand that she had on his wrist, Zevran knew he would have tumbled over onto the stone street below. 

“Tu seras mi muerte,” he grumbled, waiting for her to get a head start down the downspout before grasping hold himself. 

“Your life would be no fun without me, admit it,” she whispered back. 

The running did not stop once their feet hit the ground. They kept to the shadows as they passed through the Golden Plaza but the sound of chains made the hair on the back of Zevran’s neck rise up. Ahead of them, the gate that separated the docks and lower city from the merchant district was closing. Quickly. 

“Lia—” he said warningly, but she only sped up. 

A few feet from the gate, she dropped to the ground, landing on her thigh as she slid underneath the closing metal. 

“Mierda,” Zevran hissed as he followed suit and skidded beneath the gate. It closed only seconds later, but they were both already back on their feet. 

They did not stop until finally, they stood in the alley across from the Painted Dove. Zevran rested his back against the stone wall, breathing heavily. Aurelia did the same, but her hands were on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. After a moment, she stood and turned towards him. Pulling her mask down, he saw the bright smile that lit her face and heard her soft chuckle. 

“Pray tell, dear warden,” he drawled as he rested his hand on his chest. It felt as though every muscle was on fire. “What is it you find so humorous?”

“Oh, admit it,” she said, laughter still lacing her voice as she moved towards him. She rested a hand on either side of his head and pressed her body into his. “That was exciting.”

He could not help but snicker slightly himself. 

“I could have thought of a much more exciting way to spend an evening than almost falling off a roof.”

“Oh?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at him before setting her lips onto his. 

He gripped her hips and pulled her flush against him. One hand settled on her lower back as the other moved to grip her ass, giving it a hard squeeze that made her jump. 

“Nothing like a good escape to get you in the mood, hm?” she teased. 

As her mouth moved up his jawline to nibble on his ear, he couldn’t find the words to argue. Instead, he let his head rest back against the wall, enjoying the attention she was lavishing upon him. His own hands wandered as her mouth did, moving his hand from her back side to the front of her armor, pawing at her breasts through the leather. 

She arched into him and Zevran suddenly wished that they had made the climb back up to their room, but his chest was already pulsing with the warming need to have her. Skimming his hand down the front of her, he caught the laces of her breeches between his fingers and tugged. 

“Zev,” she breathed, warning in her tone, but he paid it no mind and instead reversed their roles, pushing her back into the stone wall. He reached his hand to his mouth, tugging his glove off with his teeth before his fingers wound their way into her small clothes. 

“We shouldn’t—” she groaned, her eyes shutting and her mouth opening as his thumb made circles around her clit. “Not here—”

He swallowed her moan with his lips as he plunged two fingers inside her. Her hips bucked helplessly against him. Just feeling the vibrations of her lips as she hummed against his kiss made him stiffen and without warning he pulled his fingers from her. She began to let out a noise of frustration, but it turned to surprise as he spun her so that she was now facing the wall. 

“You must be quiet,” he whispered into her ear as he pushed down her pants and under clothes just far enough for him to gain access. 

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I will be. I promise.”

As Zevran pulled at the laces of his own breeches, he couldn’t help but chuckle. He had no faith that she would remain silent. As he lined himself up with her entrance, he heard a low whine leave her and he placed his bare hand over her mouth. 

“You should not make promises you cannot keep, my love,” he purred as he drove into her. Her back arched into him and he could still hear her muffled moans that made it through the hand that covered her mouth. The fact that she could not stay silent, even with the threat of being found, made him pulse inside her. 

His lips found her neck and he suckled the soft skin under her ear, causing her hips to grind against him as he moved in and out of her. With his free hand, his moved his fingers back to her sensitive nub, ruthlessly rubbing it as he set a rapid pace. He would not last long, not with how she tightened her muscles around him and squirmed against his body. He needed her to find release with him. 

“Come for me,” he said, his lips brushing against her ear as he panted. “Please, Lia.”

Her entire body began to shake and it felt as though it was only his hand, slipping into her folds that were keeping her upright. Her head fell back, landing against his shoulder, but still he kept his hand pressed firmly against her lips, catching her cries. As his own body began to tremble and he felt a moan forming on his lips, he sunk his teeth into the exposed skin on her neck to keep from saying her name. 

He didn’t know for how long they stood like that. Her head thrown back onto his shoulder as she breathed heavily into his hand; his face hidden in her neck. When the world finally seemed to begin turning normally again and his heart rate began to slow, he removed his hands from her. When he had finished lacing up his own breeches, he pulled hers up as well. 

“Well, that,” Aurelia said finally as she turned in his arms and captured his shoulders in her arms. “Was exciting.”

* * *

“Of course, they’re on to you,” Dayana said, nonplused. “You’ve taken out far too many in a short time period. They’ll be closing ranks.”

Once the customers had all left and the ladies of the house – save Dayana – had all gone to bed, Zevran and Aurelia had slunk into the parlor, looking for a drink and advice from the madame. 

“What we need,” Zevran said, his fingers tapping against his chin as he stared out the window. “Is someone on the inside. We need to know what it is they’re planning and who to take out next. Have they even named a new Grandmaster yet?”

“Best of luck with that,” Dayana scoffed, pouring three glasses of wine. She handed one to Zevran as she spoke and then held out a glass to Aurelia before taking the other seat near the fire. 

As he sipped the wine, he turned back to the two women, his voice still thoughtful. “You do not have any pretty girls who need extra coin? Satinalia is a month away. We could—”

“You’ll need more than a pretty face, Zev,” she told him, shaking her head. “Ain’t none of my girls going to make it within a foot of one of those fancy parties your lot throws.” Zevran looked as though he meant to correct her, but she waved her hand at him and went on. “You’ll need one of them fancy courtesans that always hangs out on the Boulevard. And I’m afraid you ain’t got enough coin for those types.”

Aurelia could picture just the types of women Dayana mentioned, the same women she’d passed on her way from the docks the first time she’d arrived in Antiva City. She’d marveled at their dresses and fashionable hairstyles. One still stuck clearly in her mind. She had hair dark as a raven’s wings with large feathers pluming out of the curls that were piled high upon her head. 

“There has to be one lady willing to take a bribe in this Maker forsaken city,” Zevran grumbled as he perched on the table. 

“I’ll do it,” Aurelia piped in before she could think about her words. 

Zevran’s eyes darkened as they met hers. As if he was reading her thoughts, he said sternly, “No.”

Dayana laughed openly, eying Aurelia up and down in her, taking in her worn leather armor and disheveled hair. “You? Attempt to disguise yourself as a courtesan? You’re funnier than I originally gave you credit for.”

Zevran was not laughing, however. His hands were clenched so tightly around the glass in his hand, Aurelia was worried that he would shatter it. Aurelia evenly met his gaze, tilting her head to one side as if to say ‘what could be the harm in it.’

When Dayana looked between the two of them, confusion crossed her features. “You’re not joking?”

“I said no,” Zevran repeated. 

“How hard could it be? Throw on a poofy dress, smile, be charming—”

“It’s a good deal more effort than that,” Dayana scoffed. “They aren’t going to buy some Grey Warden playing around as a lady.”

“Aurelia—” he said, his voice a warning growl. 

“This may be the one chance that having been raised a Teyrn’s daughter will serve useful,” she implored. “Please, let me help. My mother would be so disappointed to see the years of etiquette and dance lessons go to waste.”

Letting out a loud huff of frustration, Zevran moved back to the window and drained the rest of his wine. 

“Wait, you’re the daughter of a—what?” Dayana was incredulous. She rounded on Zevran, who was once again staring out the window and paid her no mind. “Why didn’t you say? This we could work with.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Are you truly mad?”

Zevran didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his back to her as he sat on the bed, pulling off his boots. 

“You are mad…” 

It wasn’t a question, so he decided he didn’t need to respond. Not that he would have at this point. There was an angry knot in his stomach as he thought about the foolhardy plan she and Dayana had come up with. He was too busy cursing himself silently for even broaching the topic to be bothered with her rambling. 

“Will you please just talk to me?” she pleaded. He felt the mattress sag as she climbed onto it, but once his boots hit the floor, he stood up and crossed the room, unclasping his armor as he went. 

She let out a loud, exasperated sigh, but still he kept his eyes focused on the straps of his armor. 

“Why must you always do this? Every time you are angry with me, you give me the cold shoulder and walk away! How is that at all productive, Zevran?” Her voice was an angry hiss as she did her best not to raise her voice, but he could tell from her frustrated tone, that it would only be a matter of time before she lost her temper completely. 

“And why must you be so insistent that we discuss it? What is there to talk about?” he asked, still not turning to look at her removed his weapons and set them neatly on the chest beside his armor. “You have already made your decision and nothing I say – no matter how logical – will change your mind.”

“You can be so insufferable,” she grumbled. “It is a good plan!”

“You are so impetuous that you are blind to how your decisions impact those around you,” he snapped, sitting back down on the bed and pulling the blanket back. 

“Zev, I’m doing this for you! For us—”

“I’m tired,” he said simply, blowing out the candle beside the bed and laying down, back to her once more. “Good night.”

Zevran shut his eyes firmly as he folded his arms over his chest. He listened closely as she shuffled about the room, removing her own armor, before blowing out the last of the candles. As she sat on the bed next to him, he felt her hesitate a moment and could feel her fingers on his back, but she removed them just as quickly as she had reached out. 

He knew that he was being unreasonable. She was right. It was a good plan. He trusted her and her ability to be able to pull this off, but his mind brought up every terrible scenario she could face and his trust for her was not enough. What if her true identity were revealed? What if someone forced themselves upon her? What if he could not be there to help her? That was what scared him the most. He had sworn on more than one occasion that he would protect her with his life. What if he failed?

_I’m doing this for you._

Her words resonated in his ear and it only made his anger flare more. What if he did not want her to do this for him? He had never asked anything of her. He did not expect it. Yet, still she persisted. 

He laid awake for hours, anxiety and anger ridden, until finally he fell into a fitful slumber. When he awoke later that morning, he moved his arm to her side of the bed, reaching out for her, but she was already gone. Opening his eyes, he blinked through the bright sunlight that came through the windows, but the room was empty besides himself.

* * *

“I’m not certain about this,” Aurelia mumbled to Dayana as they stood outside the dressmaker’s shop. Aurelia peered in through the window, taking in the bright fabrics. She felt incredibly vulnerable, Dayana having made her leave her familiar, comfortable armor at home and instead venture out in nothing but her shirt and breeches. Glancing at Dayana, she did her best not to chew her lip. “I don’t think Zevran is on board. Maybe we should just go back.”

“Absolutely not,” Dayana insisted, taking Aurelia’s hand and pulling her into the shop. “He will come around and there won’t be any dresses left before the celebrations if you don’t hurry up and buy them now.”

Aurelia swallowed her anxiety as her eyes feasted upon the ribbons and silks. She suddenly found herself wishing that Leliana was here. It would be so much more enjoyable if her friend was by her side. Aurelia could hear the excitement in the red head’s voice now as she dressed Aurelia up in one frill after another. 

No, instead, she was feeling rather sullen at the prospect of putting on a dress once more. She could not remember how many years it had been since she’d traded her pants for skirts. So many that she wondered if she would recognize herself in one. Would Zevran? The closest thing to a dress he had ever seen her in was her night shirt and a robe. 

“May I help you?” the clerk said in Antivan, pulling Aurelia out of her thoughts. 

“My friend here is in need of several dresses,” Dayana said for her. “You see, she’s just recently arrived from Ferelden, but all of her belongings were lost overboard during the voyage. She’ll be needing at least three day dresses and something a bit more extravagant for the upcoming holiday.”

“I see,” the man said, stepping out behind the counter. He eyed Aurelia up and down, arching an eyebrow at her appearance. She sighed internally, by now used to people looking at her as little more than a commoner. She had come to appreciate it, but this time it made her purse her lips in annoyance. It reminded her too much of the look Dayana had given her the night before. 

“What about this one?” the man asked, pulling a simple, brown linen dress from a shelf and holding it over his arm so she could see. “Very affordable and easy to wash.”

“We’re looking for something a bit more—” Dayana began, but Aurelia cut her off. 

Pointing to the elaborately embroidered, silk number hanging on display behind the counter, Aurelia said in Antivan, “That one. I want that one.”

“I’m afraid that one is going to cost you a good sum of money,” the man said, skeptically. 

Pulling the change purse from her pocket, Aurelia set it down on the counter and said simply, “It’s a good thing my gold didn’t sink with my clothes, now isn’t it?”

Dayana stifled a snort, covering it with a cough, before asking sweetly, “Now do you have anything in blue? I think it’d compliment her eyes quite nicely. Don’t you agree?”

* * *

“She left without her knives,” Niko said, his concern growing with every minute that passed. 

“I know,” Zevran said simply as he sat at the desk in the parlor, attempting to respond to Alistair’s latest letter. As hard as he attempted to put quill to paper, however, worry still ate at him. Had he displeased her so much that she had left? Had she at least brought a weapon with her wherever it was she’d gone? It was not like her to leave their room without donning her armor. Had she been taken?

“She didn’t even take Mac,” Niko went on. “If she’d really gone, she would have taken him. Wouldn’t she?”

“Don’t be daft, of course she would have.”

Zevran glanced up as Dayana walked into the room, a well-dressed brunette following close behind her. Relieved at her sudden entrance, he stood from his chair, mouth open to interrogate her on the ware bouts of his lover, when he suddenly felt himself doing a double take. 

The woman behind Dayana may as well have been a stranger, for she looked nothing like the Aurelia he knew. The tight, leather armor she usually wore was gone, replaced with a full, turquoise silk skirt. The purple bodice she wore was embroidered with silver threads, making floral patters around the cuffs and buttons. Her normally messy, unruly hair was swept up into an artful masterpiece of curls and pearl pins. He could barely make out the scars on her face behind the powder and painted red lips. 

The only hint that it was her was the way she walked, her head held high, her shoulders back, a small smirk playing on her lips. It startled Zevran to realize that she walked the same way in a gown as she did in threadbare armor: like she was invincible, like no one could touch her.

“Meet Sophia Gilmore!” Dayana said, pride seeping into her words. She looked like a woman who’d just made a brilliant discovery. 

“Hostia puta,” Zevran said, feeling breathless. 

“Language!” Dayana scolded him, dropping onto the couch and glaring at him. “There’s children present!”

“What do you think?” Aurelia asked, placing her hands on her waist and spinning slightly so Zevran could see the full effect. 

He couldn’t answer and simply stared at her wide eyed, mouth slightly agape. 

“Is it bad?” she suddenly looked nervous. Her hands moving to smooth down her large skirts. 

“You look like a lady!” Niko exclaimed as Mac moved forward, cautiously sniffing around his mistress as if to make sure it was really her. 

“Thanks, pup,” Aurelia said with a small laugh, but her smile faltered as she looked to Zevran once more, who simply stood staring at her as if this was the first time he’d ever seen her. 

He knew that he should say something. A compliment was probably the best course of action, but the words would not come to his lips. 

He had known since the moment he first laid eyes on her that this was who she was. He had guessed it from her soft, unmarred skin and her assertive manner. As the years had passed, though, that version of her had slipped from his mind to be replaced with the every day reality of the woman who fought by his side, the woman who shared his tents and sad excuse for mattresses, the woman who laughed too loudly and swore too much. This version, standing in front of him, he did not know what to do with, how to reconcile it with the woman he’d come to adore. 

As if sensing the tension that hung in the air between the couple, Dayana stood back up and held her hand out to Niko. “Let’s say you and I take this mutt for a walk, yeah?”

They remained silent as the other three left the room. Aurelia remained standing before him, anxiously tugging at her bodice, but it only drew Zevran’s attention to her now ample cleavage and he had to swallow. 

“Sophia Gilmore?” he asked finally and Aurelia met his gaze with a small, lopsided smile. 

“First thing I could think of,” she confessed, taking a few hesitant steps towards him. 

“Is this how you used to dress, my lady, before the Blight?”

She shot him and annoyed look. “Not quite. Ferelden dresses are definitely lacking in obnoxiously loud colors and silk.” He watched as she chewed her lip for a moment, before saying, “It wasn’t my idea to go out shopping. Dayana insisted,” she said guiltily, her eyes imploring as she stared at him. “Do you hate it? If you do, I can return it. There’s loads more I can choose from.”

“It is not me you are attempting to impress,” Zevran said quietly, his eyes moving from her face to her ears. She had filled her empty earlobe with a pearl drop that matched the pins in her hair. Her other ear still held the gold hoop he had given her. As his eyes traveled downwards, past the pearl choker on her neck, he could make out the dainty chain that held her amulet, now hidden between her breasts, under her bodice. 

“Of course, it is,” she said softly and Zevran glanced up to see her frowning at him, her brow creased with worry. “I won’t do this if you don’t want me to, Zev. I think it could work but if it means you being forever angry with me—”

“I could never be angry at you,” he said with a sigh and added, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Not forever at least.”

She swatted her arm at him and he quickly grabbed it, pulling her against him in one quick motion. She let out a small squeak of surprise as her hands landed against his chest. 

Her grey eyes searched his hazel and after a moment she said, “I’m sorry I didn’t discuss this with you more, but I wish you would stop believing you have to face your battles alone. You helped me end a civil war and a Blight, remember? I at least owe you two major wars before we’re even.”

Zevran couldn’t help but snicker, but the heaviness in his chest did not ease. How could he explain to her how he felt? That she was the first person in this world he had come to trust, the only person he had let so far behind his mask that he feared he would never be able to fully don it again? 

He said quietly, “I will try, but you must be more cautious, my love. If something were to happen to you because of me, I do not know what would become of me.”

His anger melted, though his worry did not completely disappear, as she pressed her palm against his cheek. “Have some faith, Zev. How many scrapes have we walked away unscathed? This’ll be no different. You’ll see.”

“Not if we don’t do something about your hands,” he said thoughtfully, pulling her hand away from his face to examine her palm, his eyes narrowed. 

“What?” she asked, obviously taken aback at the change of subject. 

“Your hands,” he insisted. “They have more callouses than a blacksmith. No one will ever believe you give massages or puñetas for a living.”

Having become fluent enough in Antivan to know to be offended, she swatted at him again. 

“Well, you’ve never complained!” she all but yelled and Zevran couldn’t help but laugh.


	9. Chapter 9

“You honestly think you can seduce a man better than I?” Her voice was incredulous as she took a heavy seat on the bed. 

Zevran didn’t even bother to respond. He simply raised one eyebrow at her as he kneeled in front of her, her other stocking in his hand. The smug expression he wore made her want to kick him in the chin, but instead her breath caught as she felt his fingers pulling the fabric up her legs, his fingers moving ever so slowly. 

“I seduced you, didn’t I?” she went on, trying to keep the blush on her face from moving down her neck as his fingers stopped at her thigh. 

“Did you?” he pondered. His voice was thoughtful but she could see the laughter in his eyes as he smiled up at her. “Because I specifically remember you ran the first time I invited you to share my bed.”

His fingers skimmed further up her thigh towards her center, but she slapped his hand away and tied the garter herself. 

“You were so forward. How did you expect me to react, you knave?”

He chuckled and stood, placing his hands on his hips as he stared down at her. 

“You are going to have to be a good deal more forward than I was if this plan is going to work,” he said seriously. He moved to pick up the corset that sat beside her on the bed and murmured, “You cannot lure them to your bed if you run like a startled dear.”

The color drained from Aurelia’s face. This was not the first time that Zevran or Dayana had hinted at the fact that she may have to do more with their targets than just flirt. The very thought made her feel slightly sick and regret ever having come up with this idea. 

“I—I don’t actually have to…” her voice drifted off and Zevran looked at her expectantly. “You know, _sleep_ with them, do I?”

“Perhaps,” Zevran answered, shrugging. “Perhaps not. ‘Tis up to you and whether you are coy enough to avoid it.”

He seemed so unphased that Aurelia couldn’t help but stare at him wordlessly for a few moments. He stood there, holding her corset and motioning for her to stand, but she simply sat and looked at him, confused. 

“Why don’t you seem at all perturbed by this?”

“By what?”

“The possibility of my having sex with someone else!” she burst out. 

“Because I’m not,” he said simply, seemingly surprised by the very idea. 

“But you were so upset about this! You’re not at all jealous?” 

“Should I be?” he asked, looking honestly confused. “I was upset at the idea of you needlessly throwing yourself into harms way, but alas that is your calling card, is it not?” 

“I don’t get it, Zev,” she grumbled, shaking her head at him. “You were so jealous when you thought Alistair and I were getting married. Why is this different?”

Zevran was quiet for a moment as he looked to choose his words carefully. 

“I was not jealous of the thought of your being…physical with Alistair,” Zevran said quietly. “What made me envious was the intimacy you had with him. How easily he made you laugh. How open you were with him.” He met her gaze, his hazel eyes serious. “I know better now. I know and trust your feelings. I do not question whether or not your heart would remain true to me despite how many others pet or kiss you.”

She could not help but smile at him, her chest feeling heavy with emotion as she stared at him in awe. Words bubbled at her throat, but before she could say anything, he shook the corset in her face. 

“Let us get you ready before the night is already over,” he said, pulling her up by the arm and turning her so she faced away from him. 

As he expertly tightened the strings of her corset, another question left her. 

“How are you so good at this?” she asked, turning to glance over her shoulder to arch an eyebrow at him. 

“Much practice, my love,” he answered with a smirk and a wink.

* * *

They had prepared for weeks, but Zevran still felt nervous as he followed Aurelia through the streets. What if her Antivan had not improved enough? What if she was recognized? What if she could be implicated in the murder that they’d planned for this evening?

So many concerns swam through his mind, yet still he could not help but enjoy the view she provided as she glided along the cobblestones ahead of him. 

Her dark hair was piled onto her head in a collection of curls, a few hanging down to brush her bare shoulders, exposed by the cut of her dress. The red silk clung tightly to her bodice but fell away in waves from her waist, cascading behind her and swaying as she walked. A large red plume was placed atop her curls and a thin, red lace mask covered just her eyes. 

He was not the only one who could not take his eyes off of her, he noticed as passersby stopped to turn and stare. Some cooed and called out to her, but she simply smirked at them and walked on. 

It was the fifth night of Satinalia and everyone they passed in the streets on the way to the plaza was wearing a mask. Some, more elaborate than others. Many barely tried to disguise their face, as Aurelia did, while others like himself chose more coverage. Only his eyes shoed from inside the full golden mask he wore, but Aurelia still knew him. As she turned to look over her shoulder before entering the plaza, she searched the sea of faces for his. After a few moments, her eyes caught his and she smiled before turning quickly and walking into the crowd. 

Parties spilled out from the town house onto the cobblestone. The merchant princes danced freely in the streets with ladies and prostitutes alike. This year’s fool was carried around on a board by a group of annoyed looking young men. Even amongst all the joyous carousing, however, Zevran could still make out the occasional Crow, pretending to be drunk with glasses of wine or brandy in their hand, but their eyes were sober. Glancing around as if at any moment someone would strike. For it was true. 

He shifted through the crowd, his eyes not letting Aurelia out of his site as she moved and flirted. Finally, she settled into conversation with a group of lesser merchants and their mistresses. Not their target, but as the men tossed their heads back in laughter and Aurelia smiled coquettishly, he could see other heads turning to see what was so amusing. 

Perhaps he had not given her enough credit, he thought, as he watched Santiago Arainai move through the crowd towards her. 

_Like a fly to honey,_ Zevran said to himself.

* * *

Her heart felt as though it was lodged in her throat. She did her best to keep her face neutral with just the hint of a smirk, but still her pulse hummed and her head grew foggy. 

_Get it together, Cousland,_ she scolded herself. 

They had discussed this. They had planned this. All would be well, she tried to reassure herself as Santiago sauntered towards her through the crowd. 

“Excuse me,” Aurelia said, her Antivan still betraying her Ferelden origins as she spoke to her current companions. “But I think I might refill my glass.”

As she turned, she met the Crow’s gaze just long enough before turning and heading in the opposite direction. She kept her steps slow and measured as she reminded herself to breath. Counting backwards from ten, she did not make it to four before she felt a hand on the small of her back and felt a figure walking beside her. 

“Have I not seen you before, lovely vixen?” a voice purred in her ear and she had to force her muscles not to tense under the touch. “For I know that I have seen that lovely rear end of yours on the boulevard as of late.”

“Perhaps it was my assets you saw,” Aurelia quipped lightly, smiling up at the man mischievously. “But are you so discerning that you can tell one lovely behind from another?”

“You wound me,” Santiago said with feigned offense. “For I make it my hobby to study every great figure in Antiva City. Yours is a marvel. I should be very pleased to see what treasures hide under that mask.” His eyes wandered down her body and Aurelia mentally sighed. “And that dress.”

Were all Crows trained in the art of flirtation? As she studied Santiago’s face under his feathered mask, she could not help but wonder. He did not pull it off half so well as Zevran. At least Zev could keep his face inviting rather than staring at her lecherously, but she made a mental note to ask him later.

“Tell me your name,” he implored. 

“What will you give me if I do?” she teased, glancing at him under her lashes as she walked. “You have not told me yours. Why should you know mine?”

“A name for a name,” he said. “I am Santiago.”

“Santiago,” she repeated, letting the name roll of her tongue slowly. “Is that a very common name in Antiva?”

“You tease me,” he growled. “Will you leave me wanting all evening?”

“I should hate to disappoint you, sir,” Aurelia said as she finally reached the fountain of wine that was set up in the center of the square. As she leaned forward to refill her glass, she made certain to tip her hips in a way that provided him with a nice view of the arch of her body. “But you must understand. I am relatively new to Antiva and am in the market for a more,” she glanced over her shoulder and felt slightly proud that he had to lift his gaze quickly from her ass to meet her gaze. “Permanent position.”

His eyes flashed with annoyance and another emotion. Lust, she guessed, as she sipped his wine and did her best to look coy. 

“Ambitious,” he mumbled. “Desiring to become a mistress when you have not been in the city for more than a month.”

“Observant,” she countered, cocking her head to one side as she feigned surprise. “You have been keeping tabs on me.”

“What is your price?” he asked suddenly, his face serious as Aurelia began to walk back into the crowd. He kept pace with her, his hand not moving from the small of her back. 

“How do I know you can afford me?” she asked, arching a dark eyebrow. 

“I assure you,” he said seriously, taking hold of her elbow to turn her towards him. “I have all the funds of House Arainai at my disposal.”

“Promises are like babies,” she said with a small sigh, a favorite quote of Nan’s coming to mind. She ran her fingers slowly down the buttons of his coat, letting them pause to toy with the one closest to the top of his pants before she looked up at him with hooded eyes. “Easy to make. Hard to deliver.”

She saw him begin to get irate and she quickly splayed her palm across his chest, a smile tugging at her lips. 

“Should I test your sincerity?” she said quietly. Before he could respond, she went on, “Tell your…friends,” she said, pointedly looking over his shoulder at the many other men who watched him jealously. “That I have denied you.” His mouth opened to speak, but she cut him off once more, her voice a low whisper. “And then meet me on the southerly end of the boulevard in an hour’s time. You leave before I so no one knows that we are leaving together. If you are true in your words and your discretion about our liaison, I shall consider you an option.”

“An option?” he scoffed, but she could hear his voice catch as she moved her hand back lower down his coat.

“Yes,” she insisted. “I should not let you lay claim when I might have a better offer. That would be imprudent, no?”

“How do I know you will even show?”

“Is not anticipating the arrival and final conquering of one’s prey the most exciting part of any hunt, Santiago?” she asked. “We shall both have to prove our trustworthiness tonight.”

He was quiet for a moment as he contemplated her offer. Panic flooded her brain, wondering if she had failed. Would he deny her terms? What then? Suddenly, she could hear Zevran’s voice in her ear reminding her of the most important tactic in fighting. While she may not have had a dagger in hand, she had his weakness right below her fingertips. 

Before he could respond, she stepped closer to him, her hand wandering past his coat to trail the outline of his manhood. His eyes widened and she smiled at him innocently while inwardly she was feeling victorious. 

“Your truly are a vixen,” he hissed. 

“Is that a yes?” she asked, removing her hands from him as she stepped back. 

“One hour,” he said seriously and turned to walk back to his companions. 

About three quarters of an hour later, Aurelia sipped her wine and watched with some satisfaction as Santiago disappeared from the crowd. She had no intention of following. Quite the opposite, actually. She needed to find herself an alibi before word got back to the revelers of the death of their comrade. Just as she was surveying the bodies for a good cover, she felt a hand on her shoulder. As she turned, she looked up into the face of a well-dressed, dark haired man. 

“May I have this dance?”

Smiling brightly, Aurelia set her wine glass down and offered him her hand. “You most certainly may.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the comments and kudos! I love that people love reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. Again, I apologize for the delay in updates, but they'll be coming.


	10. Chapter 10

The streets were not empty, but a good deal quieter as he meandered through them on his way back to the Dove. By the time he had finished disposing of the body, the light was coming up in the east, casting an orange and pinkish hue across the stuccoed buildings and cobblestones. No one seemed to pay him any mind, however, as the majority of his companions on the street were too drunk to care about a lone, hooded figure. 

Zevran did not bother to make the climb to their room and instead used the front door, slipping into the shadow of the stairs as a yawning client slipped gold pieces into Dayana’s hand. 

“All’s well?” she asked quietly once the door had shut. 

Removing his hood, Zevran smiled at her wearily. “Shall we place a bet on how many bodies will be pulled out of the water this morning?”

“I’d wager an andris it’ll be seven.”

“I say at least a dozen,” Zevran said with a small laugh as he made to move up the stairs. 

“I’ll have a bath sent up for you both,” Dayana said. “Don’t even think your girl undressed yet. She just went straight into Niko’s room and fell asleep.”

He stopped and turned towards his old friend, an eyebrow raising as he asked, “Any news on her performance?”

“Not yet,” Dayana said, patting him gently on the back. “Give it a day or so and the rumor mill will start telling tales.”

Zevran nodded and gave her a small thanks before heading up the stairs. Dayana was right. Opening the door to Niko’s room, he could not help but smile as he saw the scene before him. Niko was curled tightly into a blanket. Behind him, Mac lay, the large dog’s head resting on the boy’s hip. On the other side, Aurelia slept, Niko’s head tucked under her chin. Her hair was still up in it’s pins, but the curls were fighting and winning their battle to escape. Her makeup had all but faded except the cherry red that was on her lips. She had not bothered to undress, though her mask did lie abandoned on the floor beside them. 

A book that Zevran recognized as one of the Ferelden children’s stories Fergus had sent to Niko lay open on the pillow. He scooped it up with the mask and set them both neatly on the small table beside the bed, doing his best not to disturb them. 

“Is it done?” 

Zevran startled at the sound of her voice. She too was a light sleeper, he reminded himself as he smiled at her bleary eyes. 

“Yes, my love,” he said quietly. Moving one arm under her knees and the other under her back, he pulled her up into his arms. Letting out a yawn, she did not bother to struggle and instead let her head fall against his chest. 

“Good,” she said softly as he moved back into the hall, using his foot to shut the door behind him, and made his way up the last flight of stairs to their room. 

They were silent as they undressed and indulged in the bath Dayana had sent up for them. It wasn’t until the water’s warmth began to fade that Aurelia finally spoke, not bothering to turn in his arms to face him. 

“So that makes four,” she commented lightly. 

Her eyes were shut as her back pressed into his chest. Zevran had one arm wrapped around her waist as his free hand continued to absentmindedly detangle the mess of hair that cascaded over his shoulder. 

“Eoman, the torturer you bagged while I was away,” she counted off. “Their procurer and now their accountant.” She turned her head finally to glance up at his face. “Who is next?”

“We have not yet relished in this last victory and already you yearn for the next kill?” he tutted at her, though he could not help but smile at her eagerness. 

“I can bet you were thinking the same thing,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes at him. 

“I was actually wondering how you learned to flirt like that,” he teased. 

Aurelia stretched her arms over her head as she yawned again. 

“It was easy,” she insisted. “I just asked myself ‘what would Zevran do’?”

* * *

** _Wintermarch 9.33_ **

“What does Alistair have to say for himself?” Aurelia asked, finally looking up from the letter Fergus had sent.

Zevran made a soft clicking noise with his tongue as he turned the page he had in his hands over to continue reading. “Same old, same old. His peace treaty with Orlais has still not been signed. Imagine that. Did Fergus get the wine I sent?”

“Yes, and he sends his thanks,” she said with a small sigh. “Apparently our cousin Ellie is being brought to Denerim to be presented to his Majesty the king.”

Finally, Zevran looked up, a smirk twisting upon his lips. “Oh? I cannot wait to read Alistair’s reaction. Is it a fine love match? Shall we be making a trip back across the Waking Sea for a wedding this summer?”

Aurelia snorted. “She’s more likely to kill him. According to Fergus, she locked herself in her room and was taken kicking and screaming all the way from the Storm Coast.”

“Ah,” Zevran said, resuming his reading. “But perhaps a fierce bride would suit him, no?”

Before she could even let out a chuckle, yelling from the hallway made her glance up. 

“Oy! Sophia!”

“A little early for callers, is it not?” Zevran grumbled, but by the time Aurelia went to glance at him, he was nowhere to be found. With a sigh, she stood just in time for Penna – one of Dayana’s ‘girls’ – to walk in, a large bouquet of flowers. 

“These just arrived for you,” Penna said as she set the flowers down on a side table, looking at them curiously. “You’re awful popular for not having been here more than a year. We’d better watch you or you’ll outshine the rest of us.”

“’Tis not possible,” Aurelia reassured her as she stood to stand next to the other woman, her eyes more suspicious. She found an envelope stuck in amongst the blooms and pried it out. 

“Is it a love letter?” Penna asked curiously, peering around Aurelia’s shoulder as she opened the note. 

“An invitation,” Aurelia responded, her eyes narrowing further as she tried to decipher the scrawling Antivan. 

“To attend a Wintersend party!” Penna said excitedly as she took the invitation from Aurelia’s hand. “With Prince Claudio. You lucky dog.”

As Penna read the invitation with a look of awe, all Aurelia could do was stare in confusion, racking her brain to try and remember if she’d ever met an Antivan prince. Suddenly, her mouth formed a small ‘oh’ as she vaguely recalled the dark bearded man who’d been consistently asking her to dance at all the recent parties she’d been to had been named Claudio. Had he?”

“When did you meet Claudio Valisti?” Zevran suddenly appeared at her side and Penna nearly jumped out of her skin. 

“Maker take you Crows!” she grumbled as she handed Aurelia back the invitation and headed towards the door. “Always sneaking about in the shadows like demons.”

Chuckling, Aurelia handed him the invitation and took her seat back on the couch. 

“I’ve seen him a few times. Why? Is he anyone important?”

There was a glint in Zevran’s eye that made her slightly nervous. When he looked up from the invitation, he had a menacing smirk on his face.

* * *

Claudio had nearly given up hope of her arrival and was five glasses of wine in when she finally made her appearance. He had spent the last several minutes cursing at himself silently for even having sent an invitation to this infuriating minx when she came strutting through the door, that lopsided smirk pulling her red lips to one side of her face. 

He could not name what it was about this woman that enraptured him so. She was beautiful, yes, but so were a good many women in Antiva. No, what caught and held his interest was the fact that she had had offers from every reasonably wealthy man in the city, yet she turned down them all. She took their gifts, of course, accepted their requests to dance, entertained them in non-physical ways, but she would not allow herself to be coveted. The rumor and the mystery only spread like wild fire since that night several months ago when her refusal of Santiago Arainai was the talk of the evening. Well, until he’d ended up in a canal.

“I heard she’s only biding her time until the King asks her to be his mistress,” he’d heard one man say. 

“Story goes she’s not actually a courtesan at all. Just a rich Ferelden woman, run away from her husband and living in disguise,” another woman had said. 

As she floated towards him in her turquoise gown, he wondered which rumor was truly the accurate one and how long it would take before she finally surrendered to him. 

“Prince Claudio,” she drawled as she stopped before him, hands folded demurely in front of her. “Kind of you to invite me to this little party.”

He snickered. The room easily held the most important people in Antiva, but Sophia glanced around as if it impressed her little. Her eyes remained calm and her posture relaxed. It was as if she’d walked into a quiet tavern and not one of the most important parties of the year. 

“My motives were entirely selfish,” he admitted, taking a step closer towards her and setting his hand on her waist. He could see her eyes light up, the grey reflecting the lightly of the candles as she grinned up at him. 

“Oh?” she asked coyly, her fingers ghosting down the buttons of his coat. “Were you finally going to make me an offer I couldn’t refuse?”

“I have made you many offers—”

“Yes, but all refusable,” she teased, her grin widening as she removed her hand from his coat. 

He gritted his teeth and growled, “A thousand andris.”

She made a small tutting noise with her tongue and shook her head. 

“And here I thought you meant business.”

“Two thousand.”

“You insult me,” she sighed and took a step back from him, pouting. “Not even one bastard?” she shook her head as she turned to go. “You truly are stingy for a merchant prince.”

He grabbed her arm before she could pull away and hissed, “Six and I have you now.”

The look of shock on her face was obviously feigned as she batted her dark eyelashes at him. “Here? How shall we get away?”

“Come with me,” he insisted, but as he made to walk to the door, she stood firm. 

“Seven. Or I leave,” she said, her face serious. 

When he nodded, she finally relented. He pulled her back out of the door to the ballroom and down a darker hallway. The stray servant they passed and the other couple hiding in a dark doorway all looked up, watching curiously. Before he could reach the room he was heading towards, she stopped, her hand on a door knob. 

“It’s just further down the hall,” he told her, but she pulled him into the room with more force than he thought her capable of, shutting the door behind them. 

“This one will do,” she asserted. “And I don’t have the patience to wait much longer.”

Before he could argue, her lips were on his and her hands were unclasping the buttons of his coat. As he felt her sigh beneath him, he lost all rational thought. Tossing her to the bed, he pushed up the skirts of her dress, his hands skimming her legs as they crawled further. Victory, he thought to himself as he felt the soft skin of her thighs. 

“Perhaps this is a bad time to interrupt.”

Claudio froze and his face slowly turned. There, sitting in a chair by the fire, was Zevran Arainai. Claudio did not know him very well, had only seen him from afar and knew the stories that proceeded him. It suddenly struck him that House Arainai’s suspicions had been right. This was the Black Shadow. 

He turned back to look at the woman beneath him and suddenly felt cold steel pressed to his neck. 

Sophia’s seductive smile was gone. Her face was hard and set as she pressed the knife to his skin. Taking his hands from her legs, he slowly sat back, raising his hands as she moved off the bed, not taking the blade from his throat until she had both her feet on the ground. He watched her as she walked towards Zevran, her head constantly turned to keep an eye on their captive. When she reached the blonde, she held out her free hand to him. 

The elf took it and kissed it as she moved behind him. Sophia’s eyes finally left Claudio’s as she looked down at the assassin. The fond smile they shared made Claudio grit his teeth. She was no courtesan, he realized with aggravation. She had taken him for a fool. 

“I see you have already met my partner,” Zevran drawled, his eyes returning to Claudio. 

“Leave it to you to make a whore your trap,” Claudio sneered. “Tell me, how much did you pay her?”

Zevran’s eyes grew cold, but this woman simply wrapped her arm around his shoulders, spinning the blade in her hand as she watched Claudio with a satisfied smirk. 

“Ah, I have forgotten. You have not been formally introduced. Prince Claudio, this is my lover, Aurelia Cousland.”

Claudio stared between the two, trying his best to hide his shock. There had been rumors that Zevran had allied himself with the Hero of Ferelden and the new King, but they had just been that: rumors. Claudio had never taken seriously the notion that Zevran could be conniving enough to earn the favor of the Grey Wardens, let alone the daughter of a Teryn. Perhaps, they all had underestimated him. For if Zevran spoke the truth about who this woman was, that would mean he had not only beguiled himself into the good graces of one of the most powerful people in Ferelden, but he had charmed his way into her bed as well. 

“You killed Santiago,” Claudio murmured as he stared at the pair. It all made sense now. Her sudden appearance on the scene so closely following House Arainai’s heightened security after the death of Gustavo. “Are you planning to branch out to the rest of the Crows now that you’ve put House Arainai on watch?”

“Not yet,” Zevran said casually. “You need not be worried for you own life yet, Claudio. We have not quite finished with House Arainai.”

“You’ve already disposed of the majority of their leadership. What else could you hope to gain?” Claudio spat. 

To his annoyance, Zevran simply chuckled, setting his elbows on the rests of his chair and folding his hands in front of his face. “For House Arainai to be wiped from the pages of history. I do not think it is asking for much, do you?”

“You’ll never succeed,” Claudio grumbled, setting his feet on the floor as he sat on the edge of the bed and rebuttoned his coat. “Any plans you make, they will see coming.”

“Ah, just as you did?” 

“If you do not plan to kill me, what is it you want?” Claudio spat, his anger bubbling over as he glared at the duo. “If I leave this room alive, I will make sure everyone knows her face.”

“Do you truly believe that matters?” Zevran asked, calmly. 

“We’ll just slip back into the shadows,” Aurelia said simply. “And continue on as we have since Eoman.”

“We want you to be our eyes and ears inside the Crows,” Zevran said evenly. 

Claudio could not help but let out a bark that resembled a laugh. “And why would I do this for you?”

“House Valisti has fallen from grace, has it not? You may not be in charge yet, but when your father meets the Black God, you will be master. With House Arainai destroyed, you have one less competitor for First Talon.”

He sat silently seething for a moment, considering his options. Fight them here and risk being outnumbered, even if it was by a reprobate assassin who’d never made master and a rather green Grey Warden. Escape and live the rest of his days in fear of assassination, though that was already a reality of his day to day life. With a sigh, he admitted to himself that Zevran was not wrong. With the demise of House Arainai, House Valisti could rise. 

With a sigh, Claudio finally asked, “What is your plan?”


	11. Chapter 11

_ **** _

** _Gaurdian, 9.33: Denerim_ **

“I never should have let your father send you out on the damned ship!” her mother raged, storming around Ellie’s room like a woman possessed. “Now look at you, you can’t even dress yourself properly.”

“I won’t go,” Ellie seethed through gritted teeth. Her mother was throwing potential dresses at her but Ellie just let them hit her body and fall to the ground. Her arms firmly crossed over her chest. 

“You will!” her mother screamed. Another dress clutched in her balled fist, she shook it at her stubborn daughter. “I will not have you ending up like that—that harlot of a cousin of yours! I will not have you throw your life away because that girl has put ideas into your head!”

“Mother,” Ellie snapped, her arms leaving her chest so her fists could ball at her sides. “You’re speaking of the Hero of Ferelden, for Maker’s sake! She is not a harlot!”

“Well, the ‘Hero of Ferelden’ threw away the opportunity to become queen so she could run off with an elf to Andraste knows where! She has brought shame to this family.”

“She and that elf,” Ellie spat, kicking at the pile of dresses on the ground. “Saved the whole bloody country. I can’t imagine a greater honor than that.”

“Watch your language, young lady.” Her mother grew quiet for a moment as she dropped the dress in her hand. She stalked over to Ellie and grasped both of her shoulders, her nails digging into her daughter’s skin. Ellie tried to pull away, wincing, but her mother held firm. “You will go to the palace when the King returns from Orlais.”

“What if the king wants nothing to do with me?” Ellie shot back. 

“You will charm him and you will act like the lady I raised you to be!” Her mother shook her fiercely. “Do you hear me?”

When Ellie did not respond, her mother picked up the first dress on the pile and shoved it into Ellie’s arms. 

“Make yourself presentable,” she ordered and stalked out of the room with a loud huff, slamming the door in her wake. 

Ellie took a heavy seat on her vanity bench, her mind racing as she stared down at the pale blue dress her mother hand thrust upon her. 

“Lady, indeed,” she grumbled, letting the gown fall once more to the ground as she turned and rested her elbows on her vanity, her head slumping against the palm of her hand as she stared at herself in the mirror. 

There was nothing quite as horrifying to Eleanor Mac Eanraig as the prospect of becoming the Queen of Ferelden. Despite her mother’s best efforts, she had seen her fair share of adventure in her eighteen years, having spent her teenage years on her father’s and then her brother’s warships. Still it was nothing compared to her cousin Aurelia’s adventures across Thedas, the tales of which she’d only heard in infrequent letters from the great Hero and second hand from Fergus. 

_You’re the bloody namesake of the great Seawolf,_ she thought to herself with a wistful sigh. Surely, she deserved a life of more than court intrigue and being married off to a man she’d never even met. Surely she, like her cousin, could find love and live a life of adventure. 

As she thought, her fingers toyed with the overpriced and overly gaudy necklace her mother had bought. It sat on a stand on her vanity, waiting for King Alistair to return from Orlais. It must have cost a small fortune. Not quite enough to buy a ship, but enough to—

As if struck by lightening, Ellie sat straight up, a revelation coming to her. 

A few moments later, her mother called from the hallway, “Eleanor! Are you not ready yet?”

“Almost!” Ellie called back, but she already had one leg out the window.

* * *

If Alistair never had to see the shores of Orlais again, he knew it would be too soon. The parties, the pomp, the vanity. Just thinking about it, even as he sat moping in the custom’s house in Denerim, still made him grimace. 

For what was not the first time, and he doubted the last, he found himself reminiscing about the life he had before all of this nonsense. Even his life during the blight, as hard as it was, seemed idyllic. He missed the adventure. He missed being just a Grey Warden. He missed not having to be the one making all the decisions. 

More than anything, however, he missed his friends. The only saving grace of his visit to Orlais was being able to see Leliana, but even that visit was too short. As he stared out the window of the custom’s house, waiting for Teagan and Cedric, his bodyguard, to hunt down the missing guard assignment, he couldn’t help but imagine what Aurelia and Zevran were up to now. 

His musings were interrupted by the squeak of the door. Glancing over the crates, his eyes narrowed as he noticed a cloaked figure enter and immediately start rummaging through bags. His bags. 

“Oi!” Alistair said, making the figure jump and drop a pair of his trousers. “You’re not a very stealthy thief, are you?” He moved around the crates and pulled his shirt from the person’s hand. When they tried to bolt, Alistair grasped their arm and wrenched back the hood. To his surprise, it wasn’t some poor beggar he unmasked, but a rather well dressed, if slightly disheveled, noble woman. 

“Unhand me at once, sir!” she ordered, her head held high and her square jaw sticking up as if she were the affronted party. 

Alistair could not help but laugh. “Excuse me,” he said, letting go of her arm and giving her an exaggerated bow. “For a second, I had you mistaken for a thief, milady. What need of you for men’s trousers, might I ask?”

“I…” she began to speak, but stopped, as if pondering what she should reveal. Her blue eyes glanced around before she gave him a piercing look. “I need to be away from Denerim within the hour and I cannot leave dressed as I am for I will be recognized. For you see, I am no thief simply a damsel in need of assistance.”

“Mhm,” Alistair grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at her. Her blue eyes and determined expression reminded him so much of Aurelia despite the girl’s neatly arranged blonde hair that he found himself not being able to believe a word she’d said. Damsel, his foot. “And why are you in such a hurry to be away from here?”

“If I don’t leave now,” she nearly yelled, her voice growing more desperate. “I’ll be handed over to the King as soon as he arrives back from Orlais! Like lamb to the slaughter!”

Alistair blinked. “I didn’t know the King was so bloodthirsty as to ‘slaughter’ young women.”

“You don’t understand,” she asserted, stomping a foot for emphasis. “I’ll be married off like chattel! Ugh, you could not understand! You are a man.”

“I thought most women such as yourself would jump at the chance of becoming Queen of Ferelden,” he murmured, his face thoughtful. Despite having been born a bastard and considered by some to have usurped the thrown from Anora, Alistair still had mothers of single daughters throwing themselves at him at every opportunity. 

“Well, I am not one of them,” she snapped, her chin jutting out once more. “If you will not help me—”

“Wait,” Alistair groaned, picking the trousers and shirt off the floor. “You’d better change quickly. The guards will be here any minute.” Turning around to give her some privacy, he asked as she stared at the blank wall, “Where do you intend to go?”

He could hear the rustling of clothes as she rushed to change. “Antiva,” she said simply and Alistair nearly laughed. “To find my cousin.”

“Your cousin doesn’t happen to be Aurelia Cousland, does she?”

There was a silence and the young lady said with a less determined tone, “And if she was? You may turn around now. Tell me, is this passable?”

Alistair slowly turned and had to hold back laughter once more. The clothes were easily four sizes to big and hung off her so loosely it was comical. 

“Not in the slightest,” he teased. Removing his coat, he handed it to her. Still too big, but at least it helped disguise her feminine body. He picked a hat up out of the mess she had made while searching for a disguise and plopped it onto her head. “Do you have a weapon on you?”

“No,” she said quietly, adjusting the hat so it did not fall over her eyes. 

“You should if you think you’re going to make it in Antiva City,” he grumbled. “Can you wield a blade?” he asked, skeptical. 

“Of course, I can!” she sounded offended at the very notion and Alistair chuckled. 

He removed the dagger from his belt, letting out a small sigh as he gave it one last glance before placing it in her hand. “Tell your _cousin_, I expect this to be returned to me in one piece.”

The girl looked at him with uncertain eyes as she tested the weight of the blade. “Who shall I say it’s from?”

“She’ll know,” he insisted. 

She opened her mouth to argue, but the latch on the door clicked. Before Cedric could even open the door fully, the girl rushed out, leaving the pile of her forgotten dress and cloak in her wake and a confused Cedric standing in the doorway. 

The guard finally looked at Alistair, his eyebrows raising. “Was that lad wearing you coat, sire?”

“Indeed,” Alistair said with a small laugh.


	12. Chapter 12

** _Drakonis, 9.33: Antiva City_ **

“Anything useful?” Zevran asked. He made it through the window just as she sat down at her vanity.”

She glanced at him in the mirror as she began to pluck the pins from her hair. 

“You really should learn to read lips,” she grumbled. “That way I wouldn’t have to repeat every conversation I have back to you.”

“What makes you so sure I was within eyeshot, hm?” he teased, removing his boots and falling backwards onto their bed with a sigh of relief. Following her about the city every night was proving to be more tiring than he was willing to admit. Though he could not help but find some fun in being her shadow, watching her charm her way through the parties of the Antivan elite. There were less interesting ways to spend his time certainly. “Perhaps I fancied a moonlit stroll along the docks.”

Aurelia snorted as she turned in her chair to face him, her hands tugging at her shoes and removing the knives she kept hidden in her stocking. She was not wrong to be dubious, for wherever she went, he was no further than a knives’ throw away. It was not as though he did not trust her to protect herself should the need arise. Even in her finery, he knew that Aurelia could best many of the men she encountered, but there was benefit in numbers. 

“They’re finally working to elect a new Grandmaster,” she told him, her eyes meeting his as he sat up quickly. 

“Does he say who?” he asked, his mind ticking off the most likely contenders.

“Claudio claims not to know who the final candidate is,” she said, shrugging her shoulders as if to say she did not know whether to believe him. “He did suggest that we may find an ally in House Ferragani.”

Zevran leaned back against the mattress, resting his arms behind his head as he made a thoughtful noise. “Now, that is not so terrible an idea.”

House Ferragani. The house that Arainai had knocked into the ranks of the cuchillos five years prior. Yes, perhaps their sense of vengeance would be useful. 

“What stake have they got in all of this? The prince was rather vague,” Aurelia murmured, sitting beside him on the bed as she began to undo the laces on the front of her dress. 

Knocking her hands away, Zevran pulled her forward and began undoing them himself, his eyes darkening as stared openly at her bosom. 

“We can set business aside for the night, no?” he asked, but did not bother waiting for an answer as he pulled her down onto the bed beside him.

“Yes, except it’s already morning—” she retorted, but her words were silenced with a kiss.

* * *

The insults her mother had flung so easily at her more famous cousin rang in Eleanor’s ears as she stared up at the brothel from her spot in the shadows across the square. 

_Harlot,_ her mother had sneered and Ellie had done all she could to refute such nonsense, yet here she was. For if all her information was correct, a woman matching the description of Aurelia was here. Sure, by a different name, but how many other Ferelden ladies be living in this place? No, this must be it, Ellie thought. That was most certainly Aurelia’s hound basking in the spring sun beside the door. 

Taking a deep breath, she emerged from her shadows and slowly crossed the square. Mac glanced up from his bed, eying her suspiciously as she neared the door. As she took the knocker in hand, the dog stood and began to sniff at her clothes, his nose pressing into her back. 

Before Ellie could shoo the dog away, the door swung open. A short, redheaded woman leaned against the entry way, one hand on her hip as she looked up at Ellie with more than a little weariness. 

“We’re closed. Not open for another few hours yet. And you look a little young to be round these parts of town, lad,” the woman said in Antivan. 

“I’m not a lad,” Ellie corrected in her rarely used Antivan, getting a raised eyebrow out of the woman before her. “And I’m not here to do business. I’m looking for a woman. Tall, brunette, Ferelden.”

With that, the red head stood up straight and looked even more defensive. “What business have you got with Sophie?”

“_Sophie_ I believe is in fact my kin, Aur—”

“Wait here,” the woman snapped, taking hold of her arm and pulling her unceremoniously into the dark hallway. 

“Oi!” Ellie hollered, but her annoyance was ignored as the short lady hiked up her skirts and trotted up the stairwell. 

It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit hallway. As she surveyed her surroundings, she was taken aback to find a pair of eyes peering at her through the banister above her. 

“You don’t look like a girl,” came a child’s incredulous voice, his common heavily accented. “You don’t look like no kin to our miss neither.”

Ellie took off her hat and placed her fists on her hips, glaring up at the barely visible boy who seemed to be passing judgement on her. “Pray tell me, what exactly is a girl supposed to look like, hm?” she shot back.

* * *

A loud banging on their door woke Aurelia with a start. 

“You’ve got a visitor!” came Dayana’s voice as she continued her pounding on the door. 

“This early?” Zevran grumbled, rolling over and pressing his face into her shoulder. 

“Send them away!” Aurelia called out, her arms wrapping around Zevran and squeezing her eyes shut against the bright sun of mid-morning. 

“Can you not be less popular?” Zevran murmured, his voice muffled by her skin. 

Still, the pounding persisted and Dayana explained through the door, “I think you’ll want to see this one.” Aurelia sincerely doubted it. “’Tis a lassy saying she’s your kin.”

Her eyes could stay shut no longer and Aurelia pushed Zevran off her as she leapt from the bed. She could hear him complaining behind her as she wrenched the door open and stared at Dayana. 

“What do you mean kin?”

“Don’t know, but she knows your real name,” Dayana told her, the concern and curiosity mixing in her eyes in equal measure.


End file.
